


A Grander Scheme

by littleotter73



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama & Romance, Episode: s05e22 The Gift, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-14 07:55:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 63,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9169528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleotter73/pseuds/littleotter73
Summary: In this post The Gift AU, Buffy reaches Dawn in time and saves the day without needing to sacrifice herself, but the victory is short lived when Giles is gravely wounded. Her world is turned upside down after he leaves for England to recuperate and doesn't return. Two years after the incident, she sets out to find out what happened to him, uncovering a new threat endangering her Watcher and his family.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This post season 5 AU begins when the Scoobies take on Glory during the episode of The Gift (written by Joss Whedon). The prologue contains dialogue directly taken from the episode and I have supplemented that dialogue with my description of the events in that episode until the story diverges from canon within those set of events.

Prologue

 

Giles watched his Slayer take on Glory as she beat the hell god mercilessly with the troll hammer. It was a magnificent sight to behold after Glory had held the upper hand during most of their battles. At almost every turn, she had bested Buffy. She was stronger, faster, and extremely unpredictable, but now Buffy held the upper hand and was taking all of her pain out on her nemesis.

 

“Stop it!” Glory commanded, beaten and bloodied.

 

“You’re a god,” Buffy taunted as she pulled back the troll hammer and hit Glory once again, sending the immortal flying. “Make it stop.” And with that, the Slayer began to pound Glory with the hammer over and over and over again until Glory finally morphed into Ben, unable to take the beating the Slayer was handing out and appealing to Buffy’s humanity for mercy.

 

“I’m sorry,” Ben gasped out, his mortal body battered and bruised so badly that he could barely move.

 

Buffy looked down at the young intern, her expression unwavering, “Tell her it’s over. She missed her shot. She goes. If she ever, _ever_ comes near me and mine again-”

 

“We won’t,” Ben interrupted, tenderly shaking his head back and forth. “I swear!”

 

Having been given the answer she was looking for, Buffy dropped the hammer and ran up the scaffolding to save her sister. 

 

Ben coughed and grasped at his stomach as he laughed at the irony that was his life. “I guess we’re stuck with each other, huh, baby?” he asked his other half as he writhed on the ground.

 

The Watcher made sure his Slayer had climbed several stories up the scaffolding before walking out of the shadows over to Ben’s side and steeling his resolve.

 

“Can you move?” he asked sympathetically as he knelt over the young doctor.

 

“I need... a... minute,” Ben answered. “She could’ve killed me.”

 

Shaking his head, Giles answered, “No, she couldn’t. Never. And sooner or later Glory will re-emerge and... make Buffy pay for that mercy. And the world with her. Buffy even knows that...” He pulled his glasses from his front pocket, “and still she couldn’t take a human life. She’s a hero you see,” he continued as he put on his glasses. “She’s not like us.”

 

“Us?” the injured man asked as Giles’ hand darted out grabbing his nose and covering his mouth.

 

He kept his calm eyes trained on Ben as the younger man lashed out and grabbed at him with his arm, trying in vain to fight for his life. Giles responded by tightening the seal over the young intern’s mouth and pinching his nose tighter until he watched the life fade from his eyes. 

 

Ben was dead, and by extension, so was Glory. Lowering his head, Giles said a few words over the body. It wasn’t personal, it was a matter of saving the world. He’d deal with the after effects on his psyche later. The war wasn’t quite over yet.

 

Standing gingerly, the pain in his side from the lance wound still rather fresh, Giles turned to see what he could do to help the others.

 

“Stop right there,” one of Glory’s minions commanded from behind. “I’ve… I’ve got a gun.”

 

He raised his hands and slowly pivoted on his feet to face his attacker.

 

“Stop!” yelled the diminutive demon, quivering as it held the standard police issue 9mm Glock pistol. The weapon looked ridiculously large in its tiny hands.

 

“Your goddess is gone. You are free to run along,” the Watcher entreated, his voice low and calm.

 

“You have killed Glorificus, our most resplendent one, and you shall pay for your treachery!”

 

Giles knew the things were fiercely loyal, but they were also cowards and opportunists. He expected it to run, but it didn’t and he watched as the little beast bravely walked towards him, cocked the hammer back, and pulled the trigger. Pain seared through his thigh and he fell to the ground on his back, biting back the scream he wanted to release as he grabbed for his leg. He couldn’t distract Buffy from her task. She needed to save Dawn.

 

“That’s for Glory!” the enraged minion shouted as it approached its target, aiming the gun and shooting Giles twice more in the chest before leaving him for dead.

 

—————

 

Buffy reached the top of the tower as Doc looked at his watch again.

 

“We’re almost out of time,” he said gently, lifting the knife for Dawn to see. “All it takes are shallow cuts, you see. We must give Glory enough time to enter the portal to get home.”

 

“Dawn!” the Slayer called, causing Doc to spin around.

 

“Buffy!” her sister screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

 

The Slayer rushed along the platform and pushed Glory’s henchman off to his death without so much as a glance his way, reaching her sister and untying the ropes that held her in place.

 

“Dawn, are you alright?” Buffy asked, relief spreading over her as she took her sister into her arms and hugged her closely.

 

“Y-yeah, no blood,” Dawn answered, shaking from the trauma of her ordeal. “Oh god, Buffy.”

 

The two girls stayed in each other’s embrace until the wind started to whip around the tower.

 

“Let’s get out of here,” Buffy declared, taking her sister’s hand and leading her across the platform and down the countless flights of stairs to safety.

 

When they reached the bottom, Buffy looked over and saw her Watcher lying sprawled across the ground next to a very dead Ben. Blood oozed out of Giles’ chest and leg, slowly seeping into the hard, sunbaked earth.

 

“Giles!” she yelled, immediately letting go of Dawn’s hand and running towards him. When she reached him, she immediately dropped to the ground and pulled him up onto her lap and into her arms. “Giles! Oh no, oh no! No!”

 

Dawn screamed for help and the others came as quickly as they could only to stop when they saw Giles lying limp in Buffy’s arms and bleeding out.

 

“Is… is he…?” Willow couldn’t continue, unable to articulate the question. She didn’t want to know the answer.

 

Buffy shook her head, tears streaming over her face and Giles’ blood staining her hands and clothes. She’d lost her mother recently, nearly lost her sister, and now was on the verge of losing Giles… again. It wasn’t something she would allow.

 

“No, call an ambulance,” she managed, fighting the huge lump in her throat. “He’s losing blood fast.”

 

Xander put his hand on her shoulder. “We can’t have the ambulance come here, Buff, we’ve got to get him off site.”

 

“He’s right, pet,” Spike agreed, limping over towards the group.

 

“He doesn’t have that kind of time! Call an ambulance!” Buffy ordered, on the verge of hysterics. “I don’t care what we tell the authorities, we can’t move him!”


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

 

Buffy forcefully threw open the door to her house, immediately followed by an angry and frustrated Faith.

 

“What the _hell_ were you trying to do, B?” her sister Slayer asked, grabbing her shoulder and turning her around.

 

“I’m not in the mood, _F!”_ Buffy rejoined, shrugging off Faith’s hand. “Leave me alone!”

 

“Not this time, B. You were distracted and that vamp almost had you for dinner.”

 

“Then it was a good thing you were there, wasn’t it? _Thank you,_ Faith. Are you happy now? Let me go!”

 

“Buffy,” Faith entreated softly, causing the senior Slayer to turn back around. “I don’t want thanks. I just want to know what’s going on with you.”

 

“Nothing’s going on,” Buffy continued to argue, but then let out a resigned sigh, “I... I’m just tired.”

 

“That’s a load of BS and you know it!” Faith called after her as she watched Buffy retreat up the stairs to her room. In her last act of defiance, Buffy gave her the finger. Faith let out an exasperated growl.

 

“What was that all about?” came a soft male voice, his posh British accent full of concern.

 

Turning around, Faith looked fondly at the tall blond Watcher and took the bottle of water he was offering, “I think we both know what that’s about, Daniel.”

 

He gave a resigned nod and they walked into the living room together where the younger Slayer flopped onto the couch. Sitting down at his desk in the corner, the Watcher opened his diary, “I’m ready for your report now, Faith.”

 

\------------

 

Buffy sat on her bed holding Mr Gordo. In a few days, it would be two years since she’d last seen her Watcher and almost a year since she’d last heard from him. Life was lonelier on the Hellmouth now. Xander and Anya had gotten married and moved to San Diego, neither wanting to start a family on the Hellmouth. Willow had gone through a magic addiction, but with the help of Tara, had managed to come through it. Both still attended UC Sunnydale, but Buffy saw them less and less frequently after she’d quit school to focus on slaying. Spike had stuck around until Faith’s release from prison and then he too, had moved on, throwing his lot in with Angel and the team in LA.

 

As for Dawn, both girls had decided it best for the young girl to go live with their father. A move that Daniel Everett and the Watcher’s Council had helped to facilitate after Dawn had exhibited symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder stemming from the loss of her mother and her ordeal with Glory. Everyone involved had felt it was for the best to remove her from the Hellmouth and let her lead a more normal life.

 

Lying back on the pillows, Buffy blew out a cleansing breath and watched the stars twinkle outside her window. She wondered if Giles looked at them too, and if he did, if he thought of her. She missed him and their separation seemed to get harder to deal with everyday, especially in light of the fact that Faith and Daniel seemed to be building the same rapport she and Giles had shared, if not a closer one.

 

\----------

 

_Buffy climbed into the back of the ambulance and watched as the paramedics started to work on Giles. They triaged him as best as they could and started a line for saline and pain medication, but soon after they started for the hospital, all hell broke loose. Giles coded and it took several long minutes for the paramedics to restart his heart while Buffy watched them work in sheer terror._

 

_When they arrived at the hospital, a team of doctors and nurses met the paramedics and immediately wheeled him in for surgery, leaving Buffy bereft and alone in the waiting room until the gang arrived. Several minutes later a nurse came out asking if anyone could donate blood since supplies were critically low. Buffy’s blood matched Giles’ perfectly and when Tara arrived, she was able to donate as well since her blood was compatible. Giles came through surgery, but they put him in a medically induced coma to help promote healing. The first bullet had torn through his left femur. The other two bullets had ripped through his chest and punctured his right lung._

 

_After hours of touch and go surgery, the doctors couldn’t promise a full recovery and recommended that Buffy call Giles’ family in Britain. If he could manage to stave off infection and make it through the next crucial seventy-two hours, he’d need plenty of physical and occupational therapy and it was recommended that he do that in a facility that provided better services than any of the rehabilitation centers in Sunnydale._

 

_Seeing the emotional turmoil Buffy was in, Xander offered to make the calls to Giles’ parents, but the Slayer adamantly refused, arguing that it was her responsibility. She turned to Willow and Tara and asked them to take Dawn for the night before leaving the hospital and heading over to Giles’ apartment to find his address book._

 

_Walking into his empty apartment was harder than she could ever have possibly imagined. Taking a seat in his chair, she pulled the blanket off the back and held it to her nose. He rarely used it, but he sat against it all the time and she could smell his aftershave and shampoo in the fabric. It was only then that she allowed herself to break down and sob until she fell asleep from exhaustion, the toll of all the traumatic events over the last year, and the weight of her Watcher’s life hanging in the balance again, finally exacting its price._

 

_Buffy woke several hours later, disoriented and scared, and when she got her bearings, she called the hospital asking for a report on Giles. After hearing that there had been no change in his condition, she started to rummage through his desk for his address book. She finally found it in his briefcase and looked up the number for his parents._

 

_“Hello? May I please speak with Mr Giles?” she asked the person on the other end of the line._

 

_“Who may I say is calling?”_

 

_“Buffy Summers. I... uh... am a friend of his son’s,” she answered, not knowing what to say to the stranger on the phone._

 

_“One moment please, Miss Summers.”_

 

_Several minutes later, Buffy was connected to Giles’ father. She wasn’t sure how to tell him of his son’s injuries, but the elder Giles gently coaxed the information from her and asked her how she was holding up. She certainly hadn’t expected that and she broke down over the phone. When she finally regained her composure, Frederick Giles calmly informed her that he and his wife would leave for Sunnydale as soon as possible and that they would stay in touch so that she could update him on his son’s condition._

 

\----------

 

A knock at the door shocked Buffy back into the present. She wiped the tear streaks from her face with her hands and answered, “Come in.”

 

Daniel entered with a steaming mug of hot cocoa. “I thought you might like some hot chocolate. There are the little marshmallows you like so much on top.”

 

Buffy grimaced. Sometimes she felt like Daniel tried too hard to fill the role of the missing people in her life and he always got it wrong. Giles would have offered her tea. It was his way. Their way. 

 

“Thanks,” she said when he handed her the mug. It was way too hot to drink and she set it down on her nightstand.

 

The Watcher took a seat in the wicker chair by the door and watched his charge for a moment before breaking the silence. “Faith told me you were unfocused again. Perhaps you should take some time off from slaying for a few days.”

 

“I’m fine. Faith likes to exaggerate.”

 

Daniel fidgeted with his hands. “No, she really doesn’t. You know that, Buffy. If you keep up the way you are going, you’ll get yourself killed and perhaps Faith too in the process. Please tell me what’s bothering you.”

 

Buffy looked at him and then turned to stare out the window, her legs drawn up to her chin. Daniel sighed. He hadn’t expected to get anywhere with her. She’d only reluctantly accepted him as her temporary Watcher. She was indifferent to him and over the last year, she’d become indifferent to slaying, clocking in when it was time to patrol and out when she returned, and showing up late for research sessions. It was an existence, nothing more, and knowing what he did of Buffy, that scared him.

 

He stood up and looked at her, hoping for something, anything from her. When nothing was offered, he made his way towards the door. “If you need me, you know where to find me. Goodnight, Buffy.”

 

A soft sob escaped her throat and she whispered, “What’s happened to him, Daniel? Why doesn’t he call or write?”

 

The Watcher took that as an invitation and sat down on the bed next to her. “I’ve made inquiries, Buffy, but nothing’s forthcoming. It’s as I’ve told you, there are rumors that he’s medically retired-”

 

“Then shouldn’t _he_ tell me that?” she asked bitterly. “I’m _his_ Slayer. _His!_ But more than that, I thought we were… I thought we were friends! God, it’s been a year since he last called or sent a letter. Hell, it’s the twenty-first century, he could email if writing is so _goddamn_ difficult! I call every week still and talk to the same damned person telling me Giles is unavailable. And incidentally, so are his parents. What the hell, Daniel?”

 

Buffy broke down and leaned her head against Daniel’s shoulder. The contact shocked him. In the two years he’d stood by her side in the fight against evil, he’d never been privileged to comfort her.

 

Wrapping an arm around her shoulder he answered, “I don’t know. I’ve tried contacting Uncle Frederick. I’ll try some other avenues, Buffy, but in the meantime, take a few days off. Perhaps you could go visit Willow and Tara.”

 

“They are busy with their senior thesises... theses?...whatever... for graduation. I’ll just... figure out something else to do,” she sniffed, wiping her tear streaked face with the back of her hand. “Thanks, Daniel.”

 

“Whatever for?” he asked, rising from his seat on her bed.

 

“For being you. For being there for me. I know it’s not an easy thing.”

 

“You are an extraordinarily gifted Slayer and your devotion to Rupert makes you family, Buffy. He’s my cousin and I promised him and my uncle I would watch over you. And even if I had not made that promise to them, I would have given it to you without hesitation.”

 

He squeezed her shoulder to comfort her much in the way Giles had done years before, perhaps it was a familial way of showing support amongst the Giles/Everett clan. Buffy gave him a faint smile and when he closed the door behind him, she fell back into the pillows and sighed, feeling better after her emotional outburst and confiding in Daniel. She didn’t really have anyone to talk to anymore. The last few times she went to visit Willow and Tara at their apartment, they were so involved in finishing up their last semester, she felt like she was intruding.

 

And Faith. She had been cleared by the Council for active duty on the Hellmouth after they had worked a deal with Angel and the California penal system, and she had shown up on Buffy's doorstep not long after contact had been lost with Giles. Buffy had almost killed the younger Slayer upon her arrival, and much like a wild animal joining a pack, Faith had allowed it, playing submissive and bearing her neck in an act of contrition. It had taken Buffy months to start trusting her again, and Faith had done everything she could to win back the senior Slayer’s confidence - but the divide between the two seemed insurmountable, too much badness had passed between them for Buffy to completely forgive.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

 

_“You know it’s for the best, Rupert, and it’s only until you are fit again. The doctors predict you’ll be walking and running normally again in about a year. Then you can rejoin Buffy on the Hellmouth.”_

 

_Buffy watched silently as Giles glared defiantly at his mother. Ellie Giles was a short, yet imposing woman with an iron will that her son matched on occasions. But, she was right. Giles could not convalesce in Sunnydale. There were too many risks. He still needed oxygen to breathe and help his lung heal, and he was confined to bed. He’d also had an external fixation device surgically inserted in his femur to promote proper healing and there was a metal rod and several screws sticking out of his leg. It was a rare procedure, but given the amount of tissue damage from the gunshot wound, the doctors had felt it best. The reality of his injuries were grim._

 

_She hated it._

 

_Watching her robust Watcher fight for life, code in the ambulance, and then lie there helpless in a hospital bed just fueled her anger. The day after Giles’ surgery, she’d gone hunting, looking for his failed assassin, and it hadn’t taken long to find the little scabby demon drowning its sorrows at Willie’s, telling its story for all to hear._

 

_Glory’s minion had killed a beat cop investigating the activities at the building site that awful night and taken his gun. After seeing Giles kill Ben, and by extension the most insane Glorificus, it had exacted vengeance and shot the Watcher dead. Or so it had thought. Buffy had yanked the little demon by the scruff of its leprous neck and dragged it out to the back alley where she exacted her very own special blend of vigilante justice. It hadn’t been her best moment, but she accepted it as one of her faults._

 

_Buffy looked everywhere in the hospital room but at her Watcher. She knew the standoff between him and his parents was going to eventually end up in her hands and she was going to be the one to persuade him to go. And the thought of him leaving was almost unbearable._

 

_“I’ve chosen Daniel to help Watch over your Slayer, son,” Frederick Giles entreated. “Should Buffy accept him, there is absolutely nothing Travers can do to change this arrangement.”_

 

_Giles eyes immediately sought out Buffy’s and she groaned inwardly. Here it came._

 

_“And do you, Buffy? Accept Daniel as your new Watcher? In sickness and in health?” he asked, his tone biting, mimicking a marriage vow._

 

_The Slayer miserably looked at Giles’ mother and father. “Uh, could you please give us a few minutes?”_

 

_When they were finally alone, Buffy sat herself down in the chair next to his bed. Giles unhappily watched the rain stream down the hospital window. “It never bloody rains here,” he muttered._

 

_“It does after every single apocalypse,” she reminded him softly. “And we’ve just survived another one.”_

 

_“Barely,” he retorted bitterly._

 

_“It was touch and go,” she agreed, her voice hitching in despair, her eyes haunted._

 

_Turning his attention back onto his Slayer, he changed the focus of their conversation, “It’s too quiet. It’s been nearly three weeks. If I had my books-”_

 

_“But you don’t, and there’s nothing going on. The vamps and the demons are all lying low. The whole thing with Glory-”_

 

_“I’d still feel better if I could...” he trailed off admitting defeat._

 

_“I do too,” Buffy agreed quietly. They shared a look between them and she took his hand in her own. “I don’t want you to go,” Buffy murmured, gathering her strength for what she had to say next. “But, Giles, I don’t see any other way. We’re too vulnerable if you stay here, and Sunnydale just doesn’t have the-”_

 

_“I know,” he whispered. He was exhausted, she could see it in his face and read it in his body language._

 

_Tears formed in her eyes. “I want you safe, so you can focus on healing and come back to me when you’re ready. Your dad promised me that you would get the best care back in England... and you’ll be protected.”_

 

_“I know.” He swallowed the lump in his throat._

 

_“Do this for me?” she begged, squeezing his hand, as the tears started to flow._

 

_Giles blinked back his own tears and brought her hand to his mouth, placing a soft kiss on the back of it. “Yes,” he acquiesced. “But promise me you’ll phone... and write.”_

 

_“As if I wouldn’t.”_

 

_“And if you and Daniel need any help at all...”_

 

_“We’ll pick up the phone without a moment’s hesitation.”_

 

_Buffy leaned down and gently rested her head on his left shoulder and he turned his cheek to rest on top of her head, their hands still entwined at his side. He was still in a tremendous amount of pain and she didn’t want to add to it, but he didn’t seem to mind and she needed to be with him, to hear his heartbeat and to feel him breathe. It had been too close a call._

 

\------------

 

“Hey, Buff. What are you doing at the Pump?” Willow asked in surprise, taking a double take as she almost passed by her friend’s table.

 

The Slayer had been off in her own world and startled at her best friend’s intrusion. “Oh, hey, Will, um, have a seat. Just felt the need to get out for a while. How are you? Where’s Tara?”

 

“Oh man, it’s been crazy! You know, finals, papers, oh and graduation in a few weeks. You’ll be there, right? Tara’s taking her lab final in organic chemistry.”

 

“How many mochas have you had today, Will?” Buffy asked laughing. She truly missed Willow.

 

“Oh, this is my first one here, but I drank one at the student union earlier where I met a bunch of folks from my English crime fiction class for a last minute study session.”

 

“Sounds neat.”

 

“Oh yeah, you know, Charles Dickens, Wilkie Collins, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle...” Willow stopped, noting the look on her friend’s face. “Oh, hey, Buffy, are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, just kinda missing the old days, you know. All of us sitting around the table in the Magic Box, studying, researching the latest demon or apocalypse or prophecy… and I didn’t think I’d miss school, but I do.”

 

“Hey... well, you’re doing real life stuff, training people at the gym by day and slaying by night. _Very_ superhero.”

 

“Everything would be a lot easier if Giles were here,” Buffy lamented.

 

Willow’s eyes widened in surprise. The missing Watcher had been a taboo topic for so long, she was shocked to hear his name pass Buffy’s lips. Reaching across the table, she covered Buffy’s hand with her own.

 

“Still no word?”

 

Buffy shook her head miserably and removed her hand to shred the napkin she had folded earlier. “Nothing. You?”

 

“If I did, you’d know.”

 

“I just don’t get it. The last conversation we had was fun. We were joking and teasing and he said he was making so much progress. The doctor had cleared him to walk without the crutches. We both had thought he would be home six months ago.”

 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around much, Buff. This semester has gone by so fast, and it’s not like there has been much time for much of anything...”

 

“Real life...” Buffy dismissed.

 

“Yeah, but you’re not okay, and it’s not okay for me to not be there when you’re not okay. I’m sorry.”

 

“He’s not coming back, Will, and I… I can’t do this anymore.” Buffy looked off in the distance, her eyes misting. “Not without him.”

 

Willow got up, still holding Buffy’s hand and drew her out of the booth. “Come on,” she coaxed, leading the distraught Slayer out of the coffee shop.

 

They found themselves in the park just outside town hall sitting under a giant oak tree in the shade, Buffy lying on the ground, her head in Willow’s lap, the Wicca gently stroking the Slayer’s golden hair.

 

“I just can’t get my head in the game and Sunnydale is like this prison I’ll never get paroled from. I can’t leave and yet, I feel like I’m not supposed to be here anymore.”

 

“Have you told Daniel?”

 

“In a way he knows. He’s good at this watching thing. I got benched from patrol. Apparently I am a danger to myself and Faith.”

 

“How’s Faith? Are they doing it yet?”

 

Buffy let out a little laugh, “Surprisingly no, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. It’s just so hard to watch them together. They’ve really bonded and are so in tune to each other. I miss that with Giles... smoochies aside... cuz, you know... we weren’t like... that.”

 

“Do you wanna be?” Willow froze and her eyes went wide. “I mean…wow, that just came out, sorry.”

 

There was an awkward pause and the Slayer turned on her side to hide her face from her best friend before admitting, “I think about it...”

 

Willow relaxed and resumed stroking Buffy’s hair, “Yeah, I kinda thought you did.”

 

“I was hoping that if we made it through the Glory ordeal unscathed he and I-” She stopped. It did no good to dwell on the past and what might have been. “I feel like I’m missing a huge part of me.”

 

Willow looked down at her best friend, “Uh, Buffy, is there a reason you are still here in Sunnydale and not in England banging down his door and finding out why he’s not here? I mean, does Faith really still need her hand held? You’ve been slaying on the Hellmouth without another Slayer guarding _your_ back for years.”

 

Buffy watched a pair of lovers stroll hand in hand down the path towards the pond and sighed miserably, closing her eyes, remembering the day Giles’ left.

 

\----------

 

_Days before Giles’ scheduled departure she’d called Quentin Travers insisting on the Council jet to fly her Watcher and his parents back to England. There was no way he would have been able to get comfortable on a commercial jumbo jet. Not that anyone could be totally comfortable on a transatlantic flight, but at least this way Giles would have space to accommodate his leg without someone bumping into it or the rod that protruded from it. There would also be room for the intravenous drips of various medications, the oxygen tank, and he would be afforded some privacy._

 

_Buffy rode with him to the municipal airport in a medical transport after he’d said goodbye to the rest of the Scoobies at the hospital. It was a solemn trip, and they watched one another other when they thought the other wasn’t looking, occasionally locking eyes, neither knowing what to say even after spending five years guarding over the Hellmouth together, surviving multiple apocalypses, prophecies, deaths of loved ones and lovers, her graduation, and the awkward freshman year of college. And over the past year, they’d grown closer than they ever had been, becoming equals and partners in their shared destiny. She’d even fallen in love with him._

 

_Standing on the tarmac after Giles had been removed from the ambulance on the gurney, Buffy held his hand, unable to let go and unable to look at him for fear of breaking down._

 

_Giles asked his parents to board, saying he needed a few minutes with his Slayer before the medics assisted him onto the plane. Frederick and Ellie Giles said their farewells to Buffy and to their nephew Daniel, who had driven them over in Giles’ little red tramp._

 

_“Buffy, look at me,” he entreated, his pale green eyes red and filled with tears. “Promise me you’ll look after yourself.”_

 

_She leaned down and hugged him gingerly. “Come home as soon as you can,” she replied against his cheek. “I need you.”_

 

_Daniel, seeing her distress, walked over to Buffy’s side and shook his cousin’s hand, assuring him that he would watch over her._

 

_The medical staff wheeled Giles over to the plane and Buffy watched as they put him on the lift. Unable to let him go just yet, she ran towards him. “Giles!” When she caught up with him, she kissed his cheek and pulled one of the silver hoops from her ear, inserting it through the hole in his. “It’s not much, but it’s all I have right now... and... we match.”_

 

_He’d squeezed her hand. “Buffy, I…” he trailed off, his emotions getting the better of him._

 

_She’d finally let go and moved off the lift after Daniel had come over to lead her away, though her gaze never left Giles’, and they’d kept their eyes trained on each other until he was wheeled into the plane. A few moments later, the medics returned with the empty gurney and the door closed behind them. She watched as the plane began its taxi to the runway. Unable to hold herself up anymore from the grief, she sunk to the tarmac and sobbed._

 

\----------

 

Shaking off the memory, Buffy turned her attention back to Willow, looking up at her friend, “I think about going to find him all the time, but...”

 

“But?”

 

“He’s free now, Will. Medically discharged if he wants and there’s a rumor going around that that’s exactly what’s happened. He doesn’t need to come back to this. Daniel is working out just fine and...”

 

Willow gently smacked Buffy’s forehead, “Pshaw, I say! It’s a stinky rumor. Go forth and find your Watcher.”

 

The Slayer giggled despite the despair she felt. “You think it’s that easy?”

 

“Not easy, but I think it’s necessary. None of this makes sense. Why would Giles just stop talking to you?”

 

Buffy sat up and hugged her best friend. “I’ll miss graduation, you know,” she said a new sense of purpose.

 

“Eh, there will be more. As long as my long as my parents are willing to pay, I’m going to stay in school for as long as I can. If they want another PhD in the family so they can brag to their friends, then who am I to say no?”

 

The two best friends shared an understanding smile.

 

“I won’t miss the next one, I promise,” Buffy swore as she rose to her feet, feeling lighter from finally confessing her feelings about Giles and having received the understanding and support to go look for him. 

 

“I’ll hold ya to it. Come on… let’s go make some plans,” Willow encouraged as she took her friend’s hands for the assist in getting up. Seeing the change in Buffy’s demeanor, she nodded and declared, “Now, _this_ is more like the Buffy I know and love.”


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

 

Buffy sat down at the dinner table that evening with her replacement Watcher and her sister Slayer. Daniel passed the bowl of spaghetti to her, a pensive look on his face, and she held her breath in anticipation of his answer.

 

“I think you should go, Buffy,” he said at last.

 

“Yeah, B,” Faith agreed. “Daniel and I can hold down the fort here.”

 

“Are you guys sure?”

 

“We are. The Hellmouth has been quiet for some time now, really, there is no need to have two Slayers stationed in Sunnydale. Find my cousin and find your own way together. There are vampires and demons all over the world, you don’t have to come back here. If we need you, we’ll let you know.”

 

“Yeah, and when you find him, do us all a favor and jump him, will ya? You’re so uptight.”

 

Buffy looked affronted, “It’s not like that-”

 

“Yeah, whatevs. You’ve got the hots for your Watcher,” Faith dismissed, unwilling to give Buffy a break. “It’s okay. The Watchers in this family are _mighty_ fine.” She looked over and smiled suggestively at Daniel, waggling her eyebrows. He blushed and took a sip of his water.

 

“Shut up, Faith,” the blonde Slayer growled.

 

“Nice come back,” the brunette smirked sarcastically. “Buffy and Giles sitting in a tree, K I S S I N...”

 

A mischievous smile crept over Buffy’s face as she picked out a cherry tomato from her salad and flung it at Faith’s head. It made a satisfying splat sound as it met its target and she giggled in delight.

 

“Oh no you didn’t!” Faith retorted, picking the fruit from her hair.

 

“Oh, yeah... yeah, I did,” Buffy said brazenly, laughing harder and picking out another cherry tomato for second volley.

 

Pulling a piece of garlic bread out of the basket next to her, Faith broke it in half and sent it flying in Buffy’s direction, but the blonde ducked as it whizzed by and it hit the wall behind her, leaving a greasy stain as it slid to the ground.

 

“Ladies!” Daniel admonished in an authoritative voice. Both Slayers looked at the Watcher in residence and moved as one to hurl bits of food his way. “Oh you two have done it now!” he shouted, standing up and throwing meatballs at them.

 

Ten minutes later food clung to the walls and the furniture, and the trio was an appalling mess of salad, bread, spaghetti, and meatballs. Luckily no one had thought to bring out the dessert to use as a weapon, and they were all happily laughing together for the first time since Faith’s arrival.

 

“Ugh, this is just nasty!” Faith complained with a groan, removing a strand of spaghetti from her cleavage.

 

Buffy looked around the room, pulling bits of tomato puree out of her hair. There was not enough cleaning product in her house to help with this mess, and she shook her head in wonder at how they had let things get so out of control.

 

“If we get the worst of it cleaned up tonight, I’ll spring for maids and a carpet cleaning service tomorrow,” Daniel offered.

 

“Deal!” Buffy agreed readily. She’d helped clean up a mess similar to this one before: her Thanksgiving extravaganza at Giles’ apartment several years ago. And while that had been quite the chore, it paled in comparison to the monumental task before them. “I think a shower is in order first though.”

 

“Drop your clothes at the door and head up, both of you. I promise not to look.”

 

Faith and Buffy did as they were told and raced each other up the stairs to see who got to the shower first. In the end, Buffy hit the door first after tripping Faith on the stairs.

 

“That was a dirty move, Summers!”

 

“It sure was, Lehane!”

 

“Alright, you win, but don’t use up all the hot water fantasizing about Giles,” Faith teased. “And the shower head isn’t a substitute for-”

 

“Argh! Faith!” Buffy yelled, tossing the wet washcloth from the sink at her tormentor’s head.

 

\----------

 

“I dunno, B, I think something’s shady with the Council. I say fly the friendly skies and not Watcher’s Atlantic. No offense, Dan,” Faith advised with a shrug towards the Watcher as she and Buffy sparred in the backyard the next day.

 

“The fact that I cannot get a straight answer out of anyone regarding Rupert or Uncle Frederick makes me suspect something is going on as well,” Daniel said as the girls circled one another. “Quentin’s crony tells me that Rupert hasn’t filed any of his paperwork for reinstatement and then casually points out that I am behind on my reports as if nothing were amiss. Bloody useless prat.”

 

“Don’t you love it when he gets all angry and British?” Faith teased, winking at the Watcher, in an effort to lighten the mood a little. 

 

Buffy ignored her. “I’ll hit my dad up and see if he can’t give me some of his miles so I can upgrade to business class. I’ll be insane by the time I land in London if I don’t.”

 

“You have a passport?” the brunette Slayer asked, lunging at her opponent’s knees, but Buffy pivoted quickly to her left, catching her assailant off balance and sending her sprawling.

 

“Yep, a few years back my mom took me to Mexico on an art buying trip for the gallery. It’s still valid.”

 

“Good,” Daniel answered. “I didn’t fancy trying to expedite one. What’s your plan?” 

 

Buffy walked over to the steps and picked up two water bottles, handing one to Faith who was not far behind. “Not sure just yet. I have the address for Giles’ parents’ house. It’s the last address I have for him. Since I’ll be arriving in London, I’ll probably pay our good buddy Travers a visit first. After all, a Slayer must check up on her Council and see if it’s working in her favor, dontcha think?”

 

“Surprise inspection, me likey,” Faith agreed with a conspiratorial smile. “Wish I could go with. That guy is a real creep.”

 

“Buffy’s defiance is legendary and Quentin took a lot of heat from both sides of the political camp for his actions during the Glory crisis. He caused a massive distraction that Buffy, Rupert, and the rest of the gang didn’t need during an extremely stressful time. He’s been a lame duck as Head Watcher these last few years, but he’s had enough support to keep him in his position. It’s frustrating,” Daniel explained, his irritation clear in his tone.

 

As they walked back into the house, Buffy said, “Show me where I need to go on the maps? I need to know how to get to the Council headquarters and the best way to get to the Giles’ residence.”

 

\-----------

 

Within a few days, Buffy found herself standing before the security checkpoint in the terminal at LAX saying goodbye to Tara, Willow, Daniel, and Faith.

 

Tara gave her a huge, comforting hug, conveying everything she had to say to Buffy through her soulful eyes. 

 

After her girlfriend had said goodbye, Willow pulled her best friend into a strong embrace, “Good luck, Buffy. Tell him we love him and miss him.”

 

“I will, I promise.”

 

“Oh, oh! Good news! Xander called last night. He and Anya have a little one on the way. They want Giles to be the godfather, so he has a trip back across the pond and the continent to plan for.”

 

“Aww, that’s _great_ news,” Buffy said, grinning from ear to ear. “Tell them I am so very happy for them when you talk next, okay?”

 

“Yeah, I will. Have a good trip!”

 

 Turning to Daniel, Buffy stated, “Thanks for making this easy.”

 

He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and this time Buffy responded by clasping it with her own. “Rupert is _your_ Watcher, Buffy. We both know that. I could never replace him, nor would I have wanted to. You belong together. The Hellmouth will be well looked after, and phone should you need any help.” He tilted his head with an approving smile and then pulled his hand away, backing up as Faith made her way over to say goodbye.

 

“You watch yourself, okay? Cuz I ain’t gonna be there to watch your back.”

 

“I promise. Kick some demon ass for me.”

 

“It’s my specialty.”

 

\-------------

 

Buffy spent her first day in London sightseeing and getting a feel for the city. She felt it best to not drop in on the hated Head Watcher when she wasn’t at her best. The flight had been long - almost eleven hours. She couldn’t sleep on the flight and apart from the occasional walk up and down the aisle, she had been confined to her seat, watching overly saccharine romantic comedies.

 

Adding to her restlessness and lack of sleep were her nerves. She had never traveled by herself before and the lack of companionship meant that she spent a lot of time with her thoughts, dwelling on the conversation she planned to have with Travers. And then there was anticipation of reuniting with her Watcher again. There were a million ways that scene played out in her mind and only a few of them were good.

 

What if it happened to be a simple matter of Giles not wanting to see her again? A matter of him recognizing that he was free? That destiny had dealt him a “get of out jail free” card? Well, mostly free anyway. And after everything, who could blame him? But what if there was some other reason? What if he had re-injured himself, or had become sick? Wouldn’t his parents have called her, then? Or called Daniel? Or perhaps he had met someone and was finally getting on with his life? She growled to herself. Surely the latter wasn’t the case. He wouldn’t have just stopped talking to her. He would have have mentioned something. It was all such a mystery and it was making her sick.

 

As Buffy passed by a toy store on her walk back to her hotel, something plushy caught her eye through the window and she entered the store. Walking over to the toy section, she picked up the small classic Winnie-the-Pooh bear and smiled sadly before taking it over to the clerk, who rang it up for her.

 

\------------

 

_“Good news, Buffy!” came Giles’ excited voice over the phone._

 

_“You finished cross referencing some demon anthology with Grimm’s Fairy Tales?” Buffy teased. It was a joke they shared between them._

 

_“Ha ha. No. That’s a longer term project,” the wounded Watcher responded with dry humor. “Are you sitting down?”_

 

_She smiled at his enthusiasm, taking a seat in the recliner in her living room, “I am now.”_

 

_“I’m walking now. No more crutches.”_

 

_“Giles!” she squealed happily. “That is the best news I’ve heard in a long while. What’s the next step? And, yes, the pun was intended.”_

 

_“Oh, how very droll! You absolutely slay me,” he punned in return, his voice conveying his mirth. “I still need to build up my strength and stamina as well as increase my range of motion, but the doctors are pleased with my progress. Hopefully I’ll be back in Sunnydale in six months, perhaps sooner.”_

 

_“Hurry home. I miss you,” she said, her voice lower than normal. She could almost hear him blush over the line._

 

_“I miss you, too. How are you fairing? How are the others?”_

 

_“I’m good. Everyone’s good. Busy. You know Sunnydale, where the wicked never rest and neither do the dead. There’s a prophecy involving some cathartic demon or something. Apparently we’ve got another baby consumer on our hands for this one, so we’re having an all night research party to find out when and where it’s going to happen and how to stop tall, ugly, and slimy.”_

 

_She heard Giles chuckle on the other end, “I think you mean Karschtich demon.”_

 

_“Sounds about right. Know anything about it?”_

 

_“You need to behead it, but other than that, no. Do you need me to look into it?”_

 

_“I think we’ve got it covered. Willow’s being all net-girl, Tara is hitting the books looking for clues, and Anya’s got some knowledge about the demon from her vengeance days. Xander’s over at Willie’s roughing him up, trying to extract any info he can that might have something to do with the planned festivities, and Daniel is translating the prophecy for the fifth time, since what we have is a Latin translation of the ancient Greek translation of the original ancient Sumerian.”_

 

_“Sounds as though you have everything under control,” his commented, his voice subdued. “What’s your role?”_

 

_“I get to come up with the plan, execute the plan, and save all the cute babies. It’s what Slayers do best.”_

 

_“Just be careful, Tigger.” Giles was serious, but he couldn’t help but smile._

 

_“Giles, you got the reference!” She laughed._

 

_“Of course. Winnie-the-Pooh is British, you know.”_

 

_“And I bet you were just like Christopher Robin as a kid. All imaginative and making up stories about your stuffed animals.”_

 

_The embarrassed Watcher cleared his throat before answering, “O-of that I have no recollection. Are you sure there isn’t anything I can help with?”_

 

_“Nah. We’ll call back if we get stuck, though. Thanks for surprising me with this most excellent news. I’m so proud and I promise to take you out on patrol when you get home. First fledgling is yours.”_

 

_“Promise?”_

 

_“It’s a date,” Buffy promised. Heaving a sigh, she uttered despondently, “I hate this part.”_

 

_“Which part is that?”_

 

_“We’re about to say goodbye again.”_

 

_“‘You may be gone from my sight, but you are never gone from my heart,’” Giles quoted, unable to disguise the tremble in his voice._

 

_Buffy let out a watery chuckle as a tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. “Now you’re quoting Pooh?”_

 

_“He’s very wise, you know, for a bear of very little brain.”_

 

_“Yeah, he is,” she agreed with a watery smile. “Same time next week?”_

 

_“Unless you take out the Karschtich demon first. I won’t rest until I know you are safe.”_

 

_“Okay, until then.”_

 

_“I look forward to it.”_

 

_“Me too. Giles?”_

 

_“Yes?”_

 

_“I... Congrats again on getting rid of the crutches.” Buffy kicked herself for being such a coward. She wanted to tell him that she loved him. She’d been trying to since she’d seen him off at the airport a year ago, and she just couldn’t manage to get the words out. Why was it so hard? “Oh, you should get my next letter soon. I sent it two days ago.”_

 

_“Thank you. I will respond posthaste. Give my best to everyone, please.”_

 

_“Yeah, I will.”_

 

_“And, Buffy, do be careful.”_

 

_“Always,” she answered. “Bye, Giles.”_

 

_“Goodbye.”_

 

_The sound of the click on the line was always the loneliest._


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

 

“Miss Summers, what is so important that you have abandoned your post on the Hellmouth to come and see me?” Quentin Travers asked, his voice terse and his body language taut at seeing the senior Slayer walk through his office doors.

 

“Well, since there are two of us Slayers now, we figured we could afford for one of us to go on vacation once in a while. And since Faith is enjoying her new found freedom cleaning up Sunnydale’s demon population, I decided I could finally take the opportunity to see the world, or at least this part of it. That, and I thought I’d look in on my Watcher.”

 

“You left him in Sunnydale,” the Head Watcher replied dryly. He was tired and looked much older than the last time they’d crossed paths. Clearly, the last two years had taken quite a toll on him.

 

“Daniel is _Faith’s_ Watcher,” Buffy reminded. “Mine’s here in Old Blighty and since I haven’t seen him in a while, I figured I’d drop by for a visit while I am here.”

 

“Well, that’s your prerogative, surely, but you won’t find him in these hallowed halls. Are you sure Faith is up to the task of slaying on her own?” Travers questioned, changing the subject.

 

“You tell me, you’re the one who let her out of jail.”

 

“Ah yes, but it was under the understanding that you would supervise her.”

 

“I’m _not_ her Watcher,” Buffy responded calmly as she walked around his office, inspecting his books and the knickknacks on his shelves.

 

“I see.” His tone was condescending and held a note of disappointment as well.

 

“No, I don’t think you do, because once again, you made a decision concerning me without bothering to consult me. Bringing Faith to Sunnydale was not my idea and I didn’t ask to have her assigned to me, nor to take up the time of my _temporary_ Watcher. But, you left me with no choice. Your goons just showed up with her and dropped her on our doorstep.”

 

“Well, it seems to have worked in your favor,” he shrugged. “You are on holiday because she is back in Sunnydale guarding the Hellmouth.” Travers never failed to find a way to poke holes in her logic and make her feel like a little girl. She couldn’t trade barbs with him, but she could outmaneuver him. She just needed to find his weakness.

 

“Luckily it did, but it could’ve gone wrong in a major way.” Frustrated, she decided to push down her feelings of inadequacy and assert her role as _The_ Slayer. After all, he served _her._ That was the result from their confrontation in the Magic box. Asserting her authority, she leaned over his desk and growled, “In the future if you want something from me, you ask.”

 

“Miss Summers, I am a busy man. It was my mistake. Should there be a next time I will make sure to consult with you.” Quentin Travers said with an air of boredom, paying her lip service and refusing to be intimidated.

 

“There’s always a next time with the Council.” Seeing no value in continuing to engage him in further conversation, the infuriated Slayer backed away from his desk. “Goodbye, _Mr_ Travers,” she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

 

“Good day to you,” Retrieving a report from his inbox, Travers gave it his full attention before addressing her again, “Oh, Miss Summers, enjoy your holiday. If there is anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask my assistant Paul. Our resources, of course, are at your disposal.”

 

Closing the door behind her, the Slayer let out an exasperated breath, trying to collect her thoughts. She had hoped that if Travers had anything to do with Giles’ silence, the element of surprise at finding her in his office would spur him into a confession. Unfortunately, other than wanting to make her feel ill-at-ease, he didn’t seem to have any concern for Giles one way or the other. The one thing she did learn, however, was that her Watcher wasn’t medically retired or he would’ve gleefully told her so.

 

“Is there something I can help you with, miss?” Paul Dickinson asked from behind his desk.

 

She shook her head, but then immediately changed her mind, “Uh, yes actually, could you please tell me how to get to Frederick Giles’ office?”

 

“You’ll need to book a flight. He’s in Bermuda heading up the West Indies division.”

 

“H-how long?”

 

“A little over a year ago or so, I believe.”

 

“Oh… thanks,” Buffy replied, trying not to panic. Other than Giles’ father, she knew of no allies in the Watchers Council, though she knew there was a whole faction of Watchers who threw their support behind the Slayers.

 

“Is there anything else I can help with?” the assistant asked.

 

“No. No, thank you. Have a good day.”

 

“You too, thank you, miss.”

 

Buffy stormed out of the Watchers headquarters in a foul mood, needing some time to calm down. She walked down the street at a clip, not caring where she went, with a million questions running through her mind and unable to sort through them in her current condition. Beyond the immediate anger and frustration, she was disappointed in her inability to garner any information regarding Giles. Finding herself walking along the Thames near Westminster, she took a moment to sit on a bench and clear her mind.

 

As Buffy calmed down, she started to process some of the questions plaguing her. If Giles’ father was in Bermuda and had been for a year or more, that meant he left his son while he was still rehabilitating, and that didn’t seem like something he would do, after all, he had personally come to Sunnydale and retrieved his son. She supposed that if Frederick were in Bermuda then his wife Ellie must be as well. Perhaps after Giles had started walking on his own, he’d left to join his father.

 

Buffy crossed her arms and watched a couple pigeons peck at an empty ice cream wrapper that had been discarded by some thoughtless passerby. Now she wasn’t even sure if she was even in the right country. Determined not to jump to conclusions and stick with her plan, Buffy took a moment to catch her breath. First she needed find some food and then she needed buy her train ticket. Tomorrow she would travel to the Giles family home. If Giles wasn’t there, then perhaps the pompous ass who answered the phone could be persuaded to provide some information on his whereabouts.

 

—————

 

Incapable of sitting without fidgeting, Buffy wished she could pace the length of the train car to relieve her nervous energy. Instead she sat in her seat watching the English countryside pass by. Every stop was one stop closer to Giles, or so she hoped, and she kept telling herself that even if she didn’t find her Watcher, she’d find answers that would eventually lead her to him. Still, the disappointment at not finding him would be overwhelming and she tried to psyche herself up for that possibility.

 

The previous night had been a sleepless one for the Slayer and she had gone out hunting to focus on something other than her current predicament. She’d been productive, dusting half a dozen vamps who’d been scamming drunken tourists into taking a one way night bus tour of the city. It had been her first hunt since she’d been sidelined and despite the satisfying kill ratio, her body had continued to hum with excitement, and she had wandered around the heart of the city trying to shake the excess energy until the sky lightened. Upon returning to her hotel just before dawn, she had climbed to the roof and watched the sunrise before making her way to her room and attempting to grab a few hours of sleep. Still it had done her no good, sleep hadn’t come and she’d tossed about fitfully until her alarm went off an hour before check out.

 

Even now, she tried to piece together the meager amount of information she had gathered during her visit to the Council headquarters. Travers had seemed utterly bored and annoyed with their conversation, and Giles’ dad had been reassigned out of country while his son was convalescing. All things considered she was left with more questions than she had arrived with. Leaning her head against the window, she closed her eyes, hoping to grab a few moments of uninterrupted sleep.

 

—————

 

_The noises coming from the door to Giles’ room in the ICU instantly woke Buffy from her slumber in the chair next to his bed. It was his third day in the medically induced coma and the doctors were impressed with his progress, saying that if he continued to improve, they would bring him out in a couple of days._

 

_She felt his hand still entwined in hers and looked down at it for a moment, taking a cleansing breath before letting go to brush the hair from her face. Turning towards the doorway, she expected to see one of the nurses coming to check on him. Instead, an older couple stood in the entrance, their eyes focused on Giles lying helpless and hooked up to several machines, including one to help him breathe._

 

_The gentleman stood with one arm around the woman. He was tall, with grey hair and piercing blue eyes behind a pair of wire rimmed glasses, his expression reflecting great concern. The woman was short with high cheekbones and red rimmed, pale green eyes that revealed her internal pain and worry as fresh tears streamed down her angular face. Her gaze never left her son as she softly repeated, “Oh, my boy, my darling boy.”_

 

_Buffy rose to greet Giles’ parents, but before Buffy could say anything, Giles’ father pulled her into an embrace. “Oh, child, I am so sorry! This cannot be easy for you.”_

 

_For a long moment, she stood in a state of shock. Then she brought her arms up to return the hug, allowing him to provide the comfort she so desperately needed. The last time she had broken down was when she had talked to him on the phone to report Giles’ condition._

 

_When she finally stopped crying, she pulled away from Frederick Giles to find his wife now sitting in the chair next to their son. Walking over to her, Buffy put her hand on the woman’s shoulder._

 

_Ellie Giles placed her warm hand over Buffy’s and looked up at her with haunted green eyes, asking, “What happened to my son?”_

 

_The Slayer had kept the details of the shooting to herself. She hadn’t even told the Scoobies what she had learned of the attack on Giles after she had tried, convicted, and executed Glory’s minion in the back alley behind Willie’s bar. She had just told her friends that the minion was no longer a problem and they’d accepted that without further questions._

 

_“We weren’t prepared for guns,” Buffy started, knowing she owed them the truth. “I mean, we’d dealt with overzealous knights, leprous minions, an ancient hell god, and her self-serving, traitorous host. We were used to magic, swords, lances, mystical troll hammers, but not...” She took a deep breath. “One of Glory’s flunkies killed a policeman and took his .45. It shot your son in retribution for killing Glory.” Giles mother trained her gaze on the Slayer, making her uncomfortable. “I... uh... I... killed it.” Buffy added._

 

_“Well, I would hope so!”_

 

_“Ellie-”_

 

_“No, Frederick. The demon nearly killed our son! A couple inches to the left and the bullets would’ve pierced his heart or God forbid if the bullet in his leg had nicked the femoral artery... Buffy was right.”_

 

_“I’m not saying she wasn’t right to kill it,” the elder Giles said, letting out a sigh and pulling out a handkerchief to clean his glasses. He watched his wife run her hand through their son’s hair before straightening out the scooped collar of his hospital gown. “For God’s sake, Ellie, he’s not a little boy anymore-”_

 

_“He never had a chance to be a little boy!” she retorted loudly. Then she cleared her throat and lowered her voice, “Just leave it be, Frederick...”_

 

_Buffy felt more than a little awkward, standing in a middle of what appeared to be an ancient argument between Giles’ parents that was clearly being fueled by a new and stressful circumstance. She knew those parental voices of disagreement anywhere. When she was little, she’d run to her room, throw herself on her bed, and cover her head with her pillow, trying to block them out as her parents battled it out down in the kitchen, but they had only seemed to get louder over time and with each passing argument._

 

_“There are only supposed to be two people in here at a time,” Buffy said, knowing that Giles’ parents needed some time alone with him. “So, I’ll go home and grab a shower and be back in a little bit. Is there anything you need before I go?”_

 

_After composing herself, Giles’ mother turned to the young woman. “Thank you, Buffy.”_

 

_The Slayer nodded and Frederick followed her out of the room. “Yes, thank you, Buffy,” he repeated._

 

_Buffy stopped outside the door, giving him a sympathetic look. “Did you talk to the doctor at all about his condition yet?” The elder Giles shook his head and she led him over to a bank of chairs in the waiting area to fill him in on Giles’ current prognosis._

 

—————

 

The train pulled into the station and Buffy grabbed her duffle bag, following several other people onto the platform. The weather was warm and the sun shone brightly as she emerged from the building into the open air. Taxis lined the street like ducklings on parade and she passed them on the way to the bus that would take her to the small village near Giles’ home. From there, it was only a couple miles walk and after almost three hours of sitting on the crowded train, she was ready to stretch her legs.

 

The bus left the Slayer at a stop along a country road and she pulled out the directions to Giles’ house from her back pocket. Daniel’s handwriting was downright utilitarian - he wrote in all capital letters, neat, precise, and small. He was meticulous and there would be no mistaking his directions, ever. Slinging her duffle bag onto her shoulders, she followed the road heading west.

 

The countryside was lush, green, and far from flat with its rolling hills. Before she’d left California, she’d gone online with Willow and they’d found pictures of the West Country. As impressive as the photos were, she was still awestruck by the natural beauty surrounding her. There was a certain serenity in the atmosphere that contrasted heavily with that of Sunnydale and the Hellmouth which had kept her on edge for so long, and she found herself relaxing despite her nerves. But even before moving to Sunnydale, there had been a certain frenetic vibration that never let her fully relax and she couldn’t remember if she had always felt that way or whether it had just been since her Calling. Perhaps a little of both, with the unrest in her parents’ relationship even prior to becoming the Slayer.

 

She had been right to agree with the doctors and Giles’ parents to have him recuperate here. It wasn’t just the physical injuries that needed to heal, but also the emotional scars from serving five long years on the Hellmouth. He’d lost so much over the years... they all had. Perhaps he had decided to retire. Just breathing in the air was restorative. Although, she couldn’t quite figure out what would make him stop talking to her altogether. She knitted her eyebrows together in quiet contemplation and continued her journey towards her destination.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 

 

“Oh, Daniel, you... big _dummy!”_ Buffy declared as she followed the private drive up the hill and getting a glimpse of the _manor house_ off in the distance. She hadn’t been prepared for this revelation of Giles’ background. He had never really talked of his upbringing and any mentions of his past had been few and far between and seemingly only on a need to know basis. His parents had never given her any indication as to their status, and Daniel apparently hadn’t thought it worth mentioning either. He probably just assumed she knew.

 

She wasn’t sure what she had expected when she heard “Giles family home.” Maybe something cottage-y, like out of a Jane Austen film, quaint, bucolic, cute, a large garden with lots of flowers. This was a bit… more. Thankfully, it wasn’t like the place out of _Peter’s Friends._ Now _that_ was something unfathomable to her American senses, but the house was much larger than she had expected and they probably owned the hill and much of the surrounding countryside. As she studied the architecture, Buffy decided that it had to have evolved from a medieval hall, expanded and added over the centuries, yet tastefully done. Eclectic, kind of like Giles himself.

 

Musing to herself, Buffy knew that if she said something like that to her Watcher, he’d probably just stare at her in surprise and she would have answered, “What? I paid attention in art history my freshman year,” and then remind him that her mother had been into art and architecture. Of course, he’d backtrack and compliment her, stuttering all the while.

 

God, how she missed him.

 

Quickening her gait, Buffy hurried up the path and as she approached closer to the house, the butterflies in her tummy increasing the intensity of their flutter with each step. When she reached her destination, she put down her duffle bag and knocked on what she hoped was the front door. It was off center, but located in the middle of the original part of the building. She waited a few minutes before a smartly dressed man with greying hair answered the door.

 

“May I help you, Miss?”

 

“Um, yes, I am looking for Rupert Giles,” Buffy answered.

 

“I’m afraid he’s not available. May I take a message?” She recognized his voice. This was the _same_ man who asked her the _exact_ same question over the phone every time she called.

 

“No, but you can tell me when he will be available,” Buffy answered, irritation creeping into her voice.

 

“I am sorry, Miss, but it’s not my place to divulge such information.”

 

“Look, I’ve come all the way from California, the least you can do is tell me when I’ll be able to see him. Don’t you have a calendar or something with his availability in it? Maybe I could make an appointment to see him?” Buffy asked.

 

“I _am_ sorry, but you will have to leave now.”

 

“ _Please,”_ she pleaded. “I’ve come all this way. I’m Buffy Summers. He’s my...” Buffy trailed off. She assumed the butler would know the family business, but she wasn’t entirely sure. “He’s very important to me. He’s my best friend and I haven’t spoken to him in a year-”

 

“May I phone a taxi for you to take you back to town?” he asked, ignoring her passionate plea.

 

The disappointed Slayer resisted the urge to throttle the man and lowered her head in defeat. “Can... can you at least tell me that he’s okay? That he’s recovered from his injuries? And that he’s… that he’s happy?” she asked barely above a whisper, not trusting her voice to not break.

 

Hearing the sound of horse hooves on the gravel drive, she raised her head and was about to turn around when she heard _his_ voice.

 

“Do we have a visitor, Mr Douglas?”

 

Her heart pounded wildly and she closed her eyes for just a fraction of a moment to savor that beautiful baritone voice mixed with amusement and a hint of sarcasm, and to prevent the tears that threatened to fall from escaping her lashes.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Then perhaps you should invite her in for tea. I shall be along shortly.”

 

Opening her eyes, Buffy turned around and took in the sight of two men on horseback. But her eyes immediately focused on Giles. He looked good, fit and tanned, sitting astride his chestnut mount wearing his riding gear and a tight fitting black t-shirt. His wounded leg was free from any medical device or brace, and even though she had known he had recovered and had been cleared by his doctors to resume his normal activities a while ago, it still came as a shock to see him free from any medical equipment, healthy and full of life, and it absolutely took her breath away.

 

She noted a change in his expression the moment he recognized her, disbelief and something akin to caution flashed in his eyes, and he looked visibly shaken.

 

“B-Buffy?”

 

A huge smile broke out over her face. “Giles!” 

 

He hopped off his horse with ease, only slightly favoring the leg that had been injured, and handed the reigns and his helmet over to his riding companion before walking quickly towards her. Buffy immediately gained her senses and ran out to meet him halfway, resisting the urge to throw herself into his arms.

 

They both stopped instinctually when they were within a couple feet of the other, unsure of themselves and staring at the other in amazement until Giles reached out and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her into a tight embrace. She gratefully returned his hug and let the world around her melt away.

 

Tears welled up in Buffy’s eyes and she buried her face into his neck, breathing in deeply to stifle the urge to cry. Beneath the strange detergent of his clothes, the unfamiliar cologne, and the lingering scent of horse, she detected the pleasantly musky scent that only belonged to her Watcher and she couldn’t hold back her emotions anymore as an overwhelming sense of relief surged through her body. When she let out a sob, Giles pulled away from her and lifted her chin with his hand, searching her face, his jade green eyes glistening beneath his own tears.

 

“Is it really you?” he breathed in disbelief.

 

“Giles...” she started, looking him up and down, “You’re okay? Your leg...” and she moved her hands from around his waist and placed them where the two bullets had perforated his upper body, “Your chest?”

 

He took her hands in his and brought them down, holding them between them. Buffy blushed, realizing she’d taken such a liberty by touching him in an intimate manner, but it had been instinctual to ensure that after all this time, that he was standing before her, breathing and warm… _alive._

 

“I’m right as rain, but a sudden shift in barometric pressure gives my leg fits and starts,” Giles answered, reluctantly letting go of one of her hands as he led her back to the house. “Do you have some place to stay?”

 

“There’s a youth hostel back in town-”

 

“Nonsense. Mr Douglas,” he called, addressing the other man from across the courtyard. “Please see to it that the blue guest room is made up and alert the staff that Miss Summers will be staying with us.”

 

“Yes, sir. For how long?”

 

Keeping his eyes on his Slayer, Giles didn’t hesitate, “As long as she likes.”

 

“Yes, sir,” the butler responded icily, picking up Buffy’s duffle bag and retreating into the house.

 

“I don’t think he likes me much,” Buffy commented, letting go of his hand and stuffing both of hers into the pockets of her jeans.

 

“He doesn’t like anyone very much, except perhaps my mother. Are you tired? Would you like something to eat or drink?”

 

“Nah. I thought maybe you could show me around? I can’t believe this is where you live! Are you a duke or something?”

 

They walked towards the garden and Giles laughed, responding, “No, heavens no. Nothing so grand. It’s old money. Although active Watchers do receive knighthoods upon completion of their service.”

 

“Like when they leave the Council, or when their Slayer...”

 

“Or... rather.”

 

“Oh.”

 

They both walked on in silence for few moments not knowing how to continue as Buffy took in the beauty of the garden in full bloom.

 

Feeling the need to break the silence, Giles turned towards her and added, “My grandmother actually had the title of Baroness bestowed upon her for service to the crown after she and her Slayer had thwarted a demon attack on the King, but it wasn’t a hereditary title. My father has his knighthood. It keeps the house grand, I suppose.”

 

“Is it like some big secret? Because you never said anything about it, and your dad never corrected me, letting me call him by his name, not with the whole ‘Sir’ in front of it.”

 

“No, it just isn’t something one talks about. ‘Hi, my name is Rupert Giles and my father is a knight of the realm.’ As I seem to recall, you thought I was rather a pretentious prat to begin with.”

 

She giggled, “You know what I mean.”

 

He smiled back warmly, though there was still an element of concern in his eyes. “Come, I have something I want to show you.”

 

They walked along a path through the ornate garden and into the woods where a carpet of bluebells lined the ground as far as Buffy's eyes could see. It was quite the contrast, nature’s work versus the work of man in the manicured garden, and Buffy immediately felt the serene perfection within the woods.

 

Giles kept in perfect step next to her without a trace of a limp, keeping a few inches between them and she was sorry that she had let go of his hand earlier, feeling uncomfortable under the scrutiny of the unwelcoming butler earlier. They continued their progress through the woods until they reached a clearing where the bluebells stopped, preferring the protection of the trees, and buttercups and other pink and blue wildflowers dotted the fresh spring grass in the meadow before them in their stead.

 

It had been a quiet walk between the newly reunited Slayer and Watcher and, while there were so many questions perched on her lips, she kept silent, not wanting to sully the mood. Glancing to her side, she saw that Giles waged a similar war in his mind, and she knew they would have to address the elephant in the clearing sooner rather than later... but maybe it could wait a while longer.

 

“How much further?”

 

“Not far now,” he answered, his voice not as warm nor as familiar as before.

 

When they came to a stream, they skipped over the large rocks that jutted out from the depths to avoid getting wet as they crossed it. Just a few meters beyond was an ancient tree, knotted and gnarled, and Buffy picked up a low thrum just beneath the surface.

 

“Magick?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

 

The corner of his mouth twitched. “You feel it then?”

 

“Well, after Willow had a slight meltdown last year, becoming addicted to the magicks, I’m sort of more sensitive to it.” His eyes went wide with concern and she gave him an apologetic look. “Long story. I’ll fill you in on all the news from Sunnydale later.”

 

Giles grimaced and leaned against the old tree, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them his irises were a darker and brighter shade of green than Buffy had seen before, like the color of the new moss growing along the side of the tree. 

 

For a moment, she felt a strange tingle through her body and she cried out in surprise, “Giles! What are you doing? A-Are you reading me?”

 

The Watcher pushed away from the tree and shook his head. When he looked up at her, his eyes still reflected the rich emerald color of the moss, but there was no malice in them and she didn’t feel a menacing element like she had whenever she was with Willow during that dark year.

 

Giles ducked his head. “I’m sorry Buffy. I had to be sure.”

 

Confusion clouded her face, “Had to be sure of what?”

 

“I… I wasn’t sure… I wanted so badly to believe...” He looked at the ground. “I-I thought you were dead.” It was a simple declaration and yet his voice was raw and held so much emotion.

 

Buffy watched him fidget. He wanted to shove his hands into his pockets but his jodpurs didn’t have any and he shrugged and dropped his arms to his sides.

 

“Um… sorta standing right here... in the sun with a pulse and a body temperature,” she said softly, walking towards him.

 

Raising his head to look at her, Giles cleared his throat and answered, “Yes, but you and I both know a certain powerful, ambitious, and well-meaning young witch who might be tempted to undertake such a monumental task as resurrection, and those spells usually don’t... have the outcome the spell caster desires.”

 

She smiled up at him. “Well, other than that one time with the Master, and Xander was there with the good ol’ CPR-”

 

“Yes, I remember,” he cut in.

 

“How could you have possibly thought I was dead?”

 

“My father received a phone call from someone at headquarters telling him of your death at the hands of some demon and relayed the information to me,” Giles began, starting to pace, his body language suddenly tense and agitated. “He was further told that the Council had cut short Faith’s stay in a California state penitentiary and put her back on active duty on the Hellmouth.”

 

“Geez, someone totally got the message confused,” Buffy said, shaking her head and trying to lighten the mood. “I mean Faith is out and patrolling the Hellmouth, but I am still alive and kicking. Maybe it was like that game telephone. After the message gets through three people, it completely changes.”

 

“No, the message was painfully clear.” Giles turned and took a step towards her, anger and indignation radiating within his now pale green eyes. “However, since you’ve been alive all this time, were you just too distracted by your social calendar to think of me anymore? To phone? To write?”

 

Buffy didn’t need a gnarly old tree to read how angry her Watcher had become - his words abrasive and purposefully hurtful. Part of her wanted to yell at him for his offensive barb, but she’d come too far to risk losing him by blindly reacting.

 

“What are you talking about? Giles, I called every week after patrol... at three in the morning my time, just like we’d agreed and, after a while, when you couldn’t be reached at that time, I tried calling at other times. And I wrote you every few days up to last week, hoping I would hear something back.”

 

Thunderstruck, Giles just stared at her. She stood, hands balled at her sides, as she defended herself, but she looked so defeated, so lost.

 

“What about you?”

 

He raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Pardon?”

  
  
“Communication goes both ways-” She bit her lip. It sounded so sassy to her ears.

 

Giles seemed to not notice. “I-I didn’t know what to say to Daniel. I knew that he would feel rather guilty about losing you, so I sent him a letter expressing my condolences and letting him know I didn’t blame him in anyway, that I knew he needed to focus on Faith now and should he need help to let me know. I… I did try phoning a few times, but no one picked up. I rang the others as well, but I was never able to reach anyone. I thought perhaps… they blamed me.”

 

“Blamed you?”

 

“I wasn’t there, Buffy. God knows I blamed myself,” he said sadly before turning his body inward and leaning his hand against the tree for support. He bowed his head and when he gathered enough strength to continue, his voice shook badly. “I thought about taking the next flight to Sunnydale, but… part of me d-didn’t want to know... how it happened exactly… how it was that I had failed you…”

 

“Giles,” Buffy walked over and placed her hand between his shoulder blades. “I’m still here,” she whispered, imagining the agony of what he must’ve gone through over the past year.

 

She thought back to the conversation she had had with him in the Magic Box a couple years before when she’d asked him why there weren’t fuller accounts of a Slayer’s final battle and how she had died. The look on his face had said far more than she would ever get out of her understated Watcher verbally, and at that moment she had realized that they meant more to each other than words could define. 

 

Giles stood straighter at the feel of her hand on his back, taking strength from her physical presence. “You said you phoned. Did you... did you speak to anyone?”

 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it was the butler guy at the door.”

 

The noise in his throat was almost a growl. “He’s in charge of the post as well,” he ground out and he started back for the house, his stride long and his gait quick.

 

“Wait, Giles,” Buffy called, catching up to him when he reached the bank of the stream. Placing her hand on his forearm, she entreated, “We haven’t seen each other in two years. Can we please… just have a few moments to ourselves?”

 

He stopped his progress and turned to face her, his expression softening, “Yes, of course. I’m sorry, Buffy, I’m just...”

 

“Furious. Me too. Somebody’s obviously trying to keep us apart. Daniel, Faith, and I came to that conclusion too. Nothing else made sense... but we have time to figure out who and why later. Right now, I just want to bask in the presence of my Watcher.” 

 

Sighing in frustration, Giles dragged his left hand through is hair and countered, “For every moment we are here, he gets another to warn whomever it is behind this that you are not in Sunnydale.”

 

“Does it matter? We’re here together. Their objective failed. We’ll get our answers, and whoever is behind it _will_ bear the full brunt of my displeasure, believe me, but what matters right now is that we get to catch up. I mean look at you!” she said, leaning back to take a look at his entire body. “You’re... mobile!”

 

“Bask you say?” he acquiesced and a small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth when she nodded. “I am sorry I didn’t return to Sunnydale after… I should have come... but-”

 

“Hey... we’re here now,” Buffy said, her eyes seeking his. Reaching up she gently tugged at the silver hoop in his ear. “You’re still wearing it.”

 

“It was the only thing of you I had left besides the memories...” Giles answered thickly and he lifted his hand to touch the matching hoop in her ear. “You still have yours as well.”

 

“Always,” she responded softly, finding it difficult to tear her gaze away from his. Moments ticked by as they held each others eyes, and when she finally was able to break free, she pulled out the small stuffed Winnie the Pooh from her jacket pocket and handed it to him. Taking a deep breath, she said, “You know, I learned something else from this wise, fluffy bear with very little brain and his friends in the Hundred Acre Wood...”

 

“Oh?” her Watcher asked, looking down at the stuffed animal in his hand.

 

“Yeah, ‘you can’t always sit in your corner of the forest and wait for people to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes,’” she quoted.

 

The smile broadened on his face and he wrapped her up in his arms, saying, “I’m glad you did, Buffy, and you aren’t the only one basking in this moment.”

 

Closing her eyes, Buffy returned his hug. “I really missed you, Giles,” she said softly.

 

“I’ve missed you too, Buffy, more than you can ever know.” 


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

 

“I can't believe I’ve missed so much!” Giles lamented after Buffy filled him in on what was going on with their friends. “I’ll have to send my congratulations to Willow and Tara. It is fantastic that they will be able to continue their studies. And I can’t believe Anya agreed to elope... and now she and Xander are expecting a _child?”_ He shook his head, taking in all the news.

 

“Believe it, and they’d like you to be the godfather,” the Buffy stated happily, lounging in the shade beneath the ancient and knotted tree.

 

“It’s... It would be my honor.”

 

“So, you gonna tell me about the magick mojo you did and what this old tree had to do with it? I mean you lured me up here on false pretenses-”

 

“False pretenses?” Giles repeated incredulously.

 

“Yeah, you said you wanted to show me something. I suppose you did, you shifty sorcerer, you,” she teased.

 

Giles extended his long legs before him, leaning up against the trunk. “This whole area is a bit of a mystical hotspot. No one knows why particularly, but the power here was recognized long ago and a wooden henge was built on a spot just beyond the brook, but unfortunately, due to weather, war, or possibly religious changes, it was left to rot away. One theory  as to why stones never replaced the wooden markers has to do with population migration - maybe this place just fell out of favor with the religious caste for a new power center. Stonehenge is about thirty or so miles from here perhaps the industry surrounding the building of that site drew the people who worshipped and lived around here. Who knows,” he mused.

 

“Druids?”

 

“No... much earlier. The archeological findings date the wooden henge back to around 3000 BCE, which puts it in the Neolithic period. The Druids were the learned class of the Celts who were Iron Age peoples,” Giles answered. “This hawthorn tree is much, much younger, but still one of the oldest in Britain at about five hundred years old - not quite as impressive as your redwoods, but it is a bit of an eye opener for Europe as our landscape has been more frequently pockmarked by strife and development over the millennia than yours. Some say hawthorn trees are an entryway to the land of the Faerie, others just believe they represent duality and balance, male and female, life and death, and as such are a great source of power.”

 

“What do you believe?”

 

“Well, I’ve not met a faerie yet,” he responded winking at her and she giggled, throwing the buttercup she had just picked at him. “What do you think?”

 

“Well, you obviously tapped into that energy, but I am not exactly sure why,” Buffy replied, rolling onto her stomach to see him better. “I mean, Tara can read auras without needing a five hundred year old tree and I can tell she’s not as powerful as you or Willow - way to hide that mojo, by the way.”

 

Moving into a more relaxed position, Giles ended up lying on his side propped up on an elbow. “I wasn’t reading your aura, Buffy, I wanted to make sure your soul was intact and that’s a much more difficult task. The tree allowed me to borrow some earth magick. If you had indeed been resurrected, then I had to know you came back properly. So much can go wrong with these sorts of spells. There’s a reason why they aren’t done.”

 

“And if this had been a different tree?”

 

“I wouldn’t have been able to see what needed to be seen.”

 

“Because of the power? Or because of the whole life and death thing?”

 

“Both. The power is associated with the internal property of the tree. Take an ash for example, while extremely powerful in its own right, is most commonly associated with protection.”

 

“Gotcha. And I take it there is a reason this hawthorn tree is on the property belonging to a Watcher family? I mean, power, duality, life and death, male and female. The Watcher and Slayer represent all of that.”

 

Shifting onto his back, Giles flashed her a satisfied smile. “My Slayer is a quick study.”

 

“It’s easier to concentrate when it’s so peaceful,” she said, turning on her side and using her arm for a pillow. “This whole area has a certain serenity to it. It’s like I can finally breathe, Giles, and the ground hums with life. You know how you feel after sitting in those vibrating chairs that give back rubs? Lying here is kind of like that, only more satisfying… like a soul massage or something. Back home, you can feel the Hellmouth lurking just below the surface. It’s so edgy.”

 

Seeing the seriousness in her face, Giles rolled back onto his side, facing her. “Stay as long as you like, Buffy, you could do with some time off.”

 

“I’m not so sure Travers would agree.”

 

“What the hell would an arrogant old bureaucrat like Quentin know about a Slayer’s needs? Besides I seem to recall you telling that poncy sod who’s boss,” he reminded with a grin as he reached over and pulled a strand of grass from her hair.

 

It was a more intimate gesture than he’d taken with her before as they lay together in the shade of the old tree and she gave him a shy smile, her heart skipping a beat. He seemed feel the headiness as well and sat back up to lean against the tree, effectively putting a little distance between them.

 

Buffy rolled over on her back, disappointed with the loss of intimacy. “I wish we could stay here forever... under this tree, beneath the bright blue sky and its puffy white clouds, enjoying the light breeze. It’s warm, but not hot like it is back home.”

 

“I sense reality creeping in,” Giles noted, hearing the despondent tone in her voice.

 

“It’s England. You have serious changes that come with your seasons, and it will rain...”

 

“As it does.”

 

“Yeah, so much for that fantasy.” She sat up to face him, her expression pensive. “I went to see Travers yesterday while I was in London.”

 

“Dear Lord, whatever for?”

 

“You know... to thank him for dumping Faith on me without asking,” she replied sarcastically. “Although, that didn’t quite have the impact I wanted, considering it all worked out, but that so wasn’t the point. Mainly, I wanted to know if he had anything to do with our… separation.”

 

“Admittedly, he’s my main suspect.”

 

“And he’d been mine, but after meeting with him yesterday, I don’t think so. It didn’t seem like he cared enough one way or the other. He’s certainly not your biggest fan, but he didn’t seem concerned at all. And he just seemed so old and so... tired. I mean, he was still his pompous self, wanting to assert his authority and all that, but he was just... so... old.”

 

Giles crossed his arms. “And today? Do you feel differently now that you’ve had time to reflect on it?”

 

“I don’t know,” she huffed. “My gut tells me it’s not him, but I think it’s pretty safe to say that someone at the Council is pulling the puppet strings, trying to keep us apart. I guess it’s fairly easy to bribe a butler and really wouldn’t require much effort on someone’s part.”

 

“The Douglas family has been in our employ for three generations and the man grew up here. I wouldn’t think it would be easy to buy his compliance,” Giles answered indignantly. “There is a sense of loyalty between us and he takes genuine pride in his work.”

 

“Yeah, but you don’t seem to like him and the feeling seems to be mutual. Maybe he feels threatened with your parents away. Maybe he’s being blackmailed or is under a spell,” the Slayer suggested. “If not the Council, what about Ethan? Could he behind all this? The Initiative let him go after a couple weeks in detention. They couldn’t hold him because he wasn’t a demon, and since they didn’t officially recognize magick, they couldn’t charge him with anything to keep him in their custody.”

 

“Yes, Riley had told me they had him deported shortly after Adam was defeated, but I don’t think Ethan would do something like this. It’s not his style, he likes to stick around and taunt and gloat. I’ve not had any contact with him for almost three years.”

 

“So we’re back to Travers,” Buffy concluded with a frown. “Of course, the list of suspects is rather lacking, unless we’ve managed to piss off more people than we originally thought.”

 

“I can’t imagine,” he replied dryly, as he made to stand up. The movement was slightly awkward as he compensated for his leg, and if it had been anyone other than Buffy, they might not have noticed it. Once standing he reached a hand out to her.  “Would you care to help me interrogate and possibly sack a butler?”

 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

 

\---------

 

“So you admit to taking my correspondence and not relaying messages to me from Ms Summers or the rest of my American friends?” Giles questioned the butler in disbelief.

 

“Yes, sir.” Mr Douglas confirmed with a slight pause, but he was calm as he sat in the chair opposite his employer, as though he were ready to accept his fate.

 

Buffy could see that just below the surface that Giles was incensed, every muscle in his upper body was tense, though his voice was steady, his words soft spoken, and his face a mask of composure.

 

“Why?” the vexed Watcher asked.

 

“I cannot say, sir.”

 

“Who is behind this?” Giles took off his glasses and tossed them on the desk before standing up and  pacing back and forth like wild cat in a cage.

 

“I-I cannot say, sir,” Douglas repeated, looking his accuser in the face.

 

“Can’t or won’t?” Buffy questioned as she approached the older man, arms folded across her chest in irritation.

 

The butler ignored her.

 

“I don’t understand,” Giles said, letting out a sigh of exasperation. “Our families have worked together for a long time. Everything has been amicable. We’ve been happy, you’ve been happy, yes?”

 

“Yes, I have.”

 

“So, why would you do something so malicious and hurtful, Mr Douglas?”

 

There was no answer. The butler just sat in his seat, his hands folded in his lap.

 

“Giles, if you want leave the room, I’ll handle this,” Buffy suggested, playing “bad cop” and pushing off from the desk she had been leaning against.

 

Clenching his teeth, Giles looked at his Slayer, “No, Buffy, that’s quite alright.” Turning back towards his employee, his jaw clenched, he said, “I’d love nothing more than to let her have a crack at you to _make_ you talk. In fact, I’d love to have a go at you as well,” the Watcher growled, leaning over the butler. “But out of respect for our families, I’ll restrain myself. Suffice to say your employment here is terminated and you’ll not receive a recommendation. As it is late in the afternoon, you may leave in the morning. Anything that you can’t take with you, I’ll have sent to you should you leave a forwarding address. Is there anything further you wish to say?”

 

The butler rose from his chair, “Thank you for your generosity, Master Rupert.”

 

Buffy and Giles watched as he walked out and closed the door to the study behind him. Giles made his way over to the armoire in the corner, pulled out the decanter and poured himself a finger of scotch, “Would you care for one?”

 

“Yeah. God, I am so edgy! I feel the need to stake something.”

 

He handed her the tumbler and poured another. “Not much in the way of vampires or demons out this way, I’m afraid, but the scotch should help calm the nerves. Bottoms up.”

 

She raised her glass in salute and took a drink.

 

A few moments of quiet reflection passed between them before Buffy asked, “How can someone do that? He didn’t even apologize, Giles. He just admitted it, and was so calm about being fired. He grew up here. He's known you since you were a baby...”

 

“I don’t know,” he responded after taking another sip of the amber liquid. “But he’s clearly not going to give up the person or persons responsible.” Giles put his drink down on the table in front of him, and blew out a cleansing breath. “I think we need to visit Council headquarters and let Quentin know that I will be resuming my duties as Watcher.”

 

Buffy set her drink down on the desk and launched herself at her Watcher, jumping into his arms and burying her face into his neck. He had only moments to prepare himself, embracing her as her momentum swung them around.

 

He laughed. “I didn’t know you missed dear old Quentin that much.”

 

Buffy lifted her head from his neck and hit him on the shoulder. “As if!”

 

“Ah-ha! Excited about London then.”

 

“It’s a great city, but try again, Watcher-mine!”

 

Giles gently lowered her to the ground, his mood suddenly serious. With a quick, shy smile, he quietly asked, “How long has it been since you’ve called me that?”

 

“Far, far too long, Giles,” Buffy answered, feeling the gravity of the situation. “But... I’ve never felt otherwise. As much as I’ve missed Merrick, he was more like that hard-ass coach you grew to respect and care about. But you’ve always been mine, just as I’ve always felt like I am yours. Wesley was a disaster and Daniel, while pretty cool, was only there to babysit me. Neither of them stood a chance.”

 

As Giles held her gaze, the corners of his mouth twitched in slight embarrassment. “Thank you,” he murmured softly.

 

They stood there inches apart staring into each others’ eyes before Giles cleared his throat and backed away with a blush rising from his neck to his cheeks. “I... uh... need to... ring my parents and let them know what has transpired with Mr Douglas. They are due home for a visit in a few days and they’ll wonder what I’ve done if they arrive and things aren’t the way... they’ve left them.”

 

“Oh... okay,” Buffy replied, trying to keep the disappointment from creeping into her voice. She was positive that something was happening between them and felt pretty sure that he was going to kiss her. 

 

“I am... just looking after the property whilst they are in Bermuda.”

 

Rallying herself, she plastered a neutral expression on her face. “I understand. It’s cool. Um, could you tell me how to get to my room? I’d like to freshen up a bit.”

 

“Y-yes, of course,” he replied, still a little off kilter himself.

 

He led her down a corridor, up a flight of stairs, and through what seemed a labyrinth of hallways before they reached the door to her room. Having opened the door, Giles motioned for her to enter first and followed her in. Buffy looked around the room in awe, the windows had been opened to air out the room, allowing a slight breeze to billow the airy lace curtains into the room. The bed was adorned with rich, royal blue and white fabrics which complimented the plush, deep velvet blue drapes and the ornate wallpaper. And if the room wasn’t lavish enough, the highly polished, elaborately decorated, mahogany furniture gave the room a stately finish.

 

“It’s... stunning,” she breathed, taking in the little details in the room.

 

“Your bathroom is through that door. If there is anything you need, you will let me know?”

 

Buffy nodded, overwhelmed by the opulence of her room. “I feel like the Queen of Sheba!”

 

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then, your highness,” Giles said with a chuckle. As he approached the door he stopped and faced her again. “Buffy, the void created by the butler’s departure will disrupt the internal workings of the household and I would like to give the rest of the staff the evening off. Would you allow me to take you out to dinner this evening?”

 

Her face lit up and she smiled at him, her eyes twinkling. “Make the reservations. I’ll meet you back down in the library in an hour and half?”

 

“An hour and a half,” Giles confirmed returning her smile.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 

 

The restaurant was located off the beaten path in town. It was small, but the food was decadent and the atmosphere intimate, and Buffy had been thankful the cream colored dress she’d packed hadn’t become too wrinkled in her duffle bag. She’d hung it in the bathroom while she took a shower, allowing the steam to relax the fabric enough to get most of the creases out.

 

Giles poured them both another glass of wine, his green eyes glimmering beneath his glasses in the candlelight as they leisurely enjoyed the shared starter of olives and hummus. He looked downright sexy in the dark green silk shirt he’d worn. He’d left the top two buttons undone and her attention kept wandering from his eyes, to his mouth, down to the hollow of his neck, and lower to where a smattering of chest hair peaked out before retracing the path back up.

 

Had they been on a date, Buffy would’ve said that it had been perfect so far. Giles was an attentive and considerate dinner companion. He’d done all those things that make a woman feel like she’s the center of a man’s world. He’d complimented her appearance, stumbling and stuttering when she’d met up with him in his study before offering her his arm to lead her to his black sports car where he’d opened the passenger door and helped her into the vehicle. And when they’d arrived at the restaurant, he’d guided her to their table with his hand placed lightly on her lower back before pulling out the chair and seating her at their table.

 

Buffy took a sip of wine and said, “You didn’t tell me how the talk with your parents went.”

 

He set his glass down and sighed, “I spoke with my father. He is, of course, quite elated to hear that you are alive and well and wishes he could be here to tell you so in person. Unfortunately, he is unable to come home at this time. There was some sort of demonic activity reported in Haiti and he left Bermuda with his team to investigate. My mother is severely frustrated with the situation in general, and with him in particular, and left the island before he did. She is currently visiting her sister in Essex and I am not exactly sure when to expect her as I am not on speaking terms with my aunt and my mother doesn’t believe in mobile phones.”

 

“Like mother like son?”

 

“I’ll have you know that I’ve embraced technology. Not exactly with both hands nor without a fair share of expletives, but I have become quite adept with computers and mobile phones.”

 

“I’m impressed! Welcome to the twenty-first century,” Buffy teased, her eyes twinkling in the soft light. “So what happened between you and your aunt?”

 

“Long story involving my cousin Michael and a wild trip to Amsterdam when we were much, much younger.”

 

“Are you still on speaking terms with your cousin?”

 

“Oh yes. Best week of our young lives, but we didn’t exactly get permission to go and almost missed the start of university because we’d missed our ferry home. We ended up having to phone our parents and admit to where we were and that we were in a bind. Thankfully my father was able to pull some strings and get us on the next flight home, but it was rather a mess. And let’s just say my poor cousin experienced many firsts that week and leave it at that,” Giles answered, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

 

Buffy laughed, “I’m sorry. I just... How many firsts did _you_ experience on that trip?”

 

“Not as many as he did, but a fair few.”

 

“Is that because you’d already experienced those firsts or because you were being the responsible one?”

 

He answered her with a wink and took a sip of his wine.

 

“Giles, you rebel!” She exclaimed, covering her face with her hands in embarrassment when she snorted while laughing. Her laugh was infectious and he joined her in a fit of giggles. By the time they were able to get themselves under control, their entrees had arrived.

 

The easy companionship they’d found under the hawthorn tree earlier that afternoon continued through dinner until they were almost finished with their dessert and coffee when Giles started to fidget and his contributions to the conversations became brief and stilted.

 

“What gives, big guy?” Buffy asked as she placed her hand over his. “You’re kind of a million miles away right now. Did I say something wrong?”

 

“Hmm? No, not at all. I just... I’m sorry,” he apologized, bringing his attention back to her.

 

“A lot to take in one day, huh?”

 

He gave her one of those brief, tight little smiles while he toyed with his coffee cup, raising his eyes to meet hers. They held a certain vulnerability she’d seen only on the rarest occasions.

 

The quiet between them stretched for a few moments before Giles cleared his throat and asked, “You, uh, never did say what you thought happened to me.”

 

Buffy took a deep breath. “To be honest, I didn’t know what to think. Part of me thought maybe common sense had grabbed you by your tweedy lapels and you realized that you could retire from this messy gig.”

 

“I wouldn’t leave you to fight alone, Buffy.” 

 

There was an intensity to his tone though his voice was low that shook her to her very soul.

 

“I know, and really you didn’t. I mean, Daniel’s there... and for some reason the Council let Faith go and she’s there now.”

 

The waitress came by with the bill, interrupting their discussion and, after Giles paid, the couple left the restaurant, walking towards the car park in the center of town, inches apart and lost in thought.

 

“I had every intention of returning to you,” Giles said after a while, stopping their progress and ducking his head so his face was partially hidden in the shadows cast by a streetlamp a few meters away.

 

“I know,” Buffy replied as she took a step nearer to him. “That’s why nothing in the last year made any sense.”

 

Reaching out, Giles took her hand in his. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“I-I didn’t have it quite so badly as you,” she whispered emotionally. “I can’t imagine... I mean, I was there as your heart stopped and watched as the EMTs worked so hard to restart it… it was…” she trailed off before trying again, “If I had thought that you... again... but this time...” She turned from him and swallowed the rising lump in her throat, trying to banish those painful thoughts, but the tears escaped anyway, the emotions she’d been riding for so long finally catching up to her in a wave of overwhelming relief.

 

Giles pulled her to him, hugging her tightly. “Don’t cry,” he breathed. “I’m here. _We’re_ here.”

 

They stood on the pavement under the stars wrapped in the other’s arms, comforting the other. For the first time in a long time, Buffy felt sure of herself and sure of what she wanted. Raising her head, she found his pale green eyes mirroring her own darker ones, wet with spent emotion.

 

Giles gently wiped the tear tracks from her cheek, looking guilty after he did so. Backing out of their embrace, his lips tightened in embarrassment and he gazed off into the distance. “We... uh... we have an early start for London tomorrow.”

 

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed, looking at her feet before resuming their walk to the car park. “How early is early?”

 

Giles fell into step next to her, answering, “I should think around ten. Any earlier and the train will be crowded with commuters.”

 

“Makes sense,” she replied flatly upon arriving at the vehicle.

 

Again her Watcher gallantly helped her into the vehicle. Before closing the door, he asked, “Is something the matter?”

 

Sighing, Buffy said, “I’m just tired, Giles, probably the jet lag finally catching up with me.”

 

“We’ll be home soon,” he reassured her.

 

They drove back to the house in silence and Buffy stared out the window though there wasn’t much to see. Street lamps were few and far between in the countryside. As they rounded a bend, Giles reached over and squeezed her hand. She turned her attention towards him and noticed the encouraging smile on his face in the light from the dash. Her features softened and she closed her fingers around his.

 

After arriving back at the house, Giles walked her to her room, his hand once again resting on her lower back as they navigated the hallways.

 

“I’m glad I found you,” she said, feeling the awkwardness of saying goodnight when they came to her door. It hadn’t been a date, but there had been moments that sure made their outing feel like one, and now they’d come to the end of their evening together.

 

“I still find it hard to believe that you are here,” he murmured, gazing down at her. “I find myself afraid to fall sleep only to wake in the morning and find it was all a dream.”

 

Buffy took a step closer to him, her eyes trained on his and he folded her into his arms. It felt so right and she melted into his strong embrace, closing her eyes in contentment. When he let go, she opened them, finding the warmth in his beautiful green eyes gazing into hers, and she couldn’t resist the urge to touch his left cheek and lift herself up on her tiptoes to kiss the right one.

 

His face lit up in surprise and a soft smile tugged at his lips, “Goodnight, Buffy. If you need _anything_ I am just down the hall. Third door on the right.”

 

“Night, Giles, sleep tight.” After closing her door behind her, she let out a happy little sigh, part of her wondering if he had given her an invitation.

 

—————

 

The conservatory was awash in light when she entered for breakfast. Giles put down the newspaper and rose to greet her, kissing her cheek.

 

“Did you sleep well?”

 

“Like a baby. Although I’m not sure that’s accurate, because I hear they get up every few hours and cry. So... like a teenager on a Saturday, maybe?” 

 

He chuckled as they made their way to the breakfast table. “Coffee?” He asked after pushing in her chair for her.

 

“Please.”

 

Breakfast arrived shortly after and Buffy enjoyed a soft boiled egg with whole wheat toast and bacon.

 

Finishing up her breakfast, she asked contentedly, “So what’s our plan of attack for today, Giles?” 

 

“Should be fairly simple. We take the train into London, catch the Tube over to the Council headquarters, and hopefully find Quentin at his desk.”

 

“Sounds straightforward, kinda like my plan, which... didn’t go so well. I think you’re a bit rusty on this whole watching thing. I mean usually you are much more with the details.”

 

There was an awkward silence between them as Giles poured himself another cup of tea. He was agitated and worked his jaw muscles. “Shall I phone Daniel and have him come up with a plan for us? I am sure he is much more practiced at this than I. Or would it be adequate to give you the exact train numbers? Which stations we will be arriving at and departing from? Perhaps we should make an appointment so that Quentin is waiting for us, allowing him time to decide how he deals with us?” His tone was acerbic, yet eerily calm and his jaw defiantly set, but his eyes betrayed his hurt.

 

“I’m sorry, that was insensitive,” she apologized, quite taken aback by his outburst. “I’m really sorry.”

 

Reaching out, he covered her free hand with his, his face immediately showing his regret at his outburst. “I-I’m sorry, too. That... was unfair. It’s hard for me... to not have been there for you these past two years and knowing somebody else was doing my job.”

 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Buffy reassured him, lacing her fingers through his.

 

They allowed the silence to wash away the hurt feelings before Giles felt the need to explain the workings of his plan, “My main objective is to let Quentin know that I will be resuming my role as your Watcher. I am sure the news won’t please him and from there, we’ll see where it leads us. At the very least, our status as Watcher and Slayer will be official again.”

 

She let out a discontented groan, “I really hate dealing with that man.”

 

He stared at their hands for a moment, considering the level of familiarity that had risen exponentially over the last day, and he paused to consider the reasons behind that before looking up at her.

 

“Perhaps afterwards we could have a late lunch followed by a little shopping?” he suggested amicably.

 

A smile slowly spread across her face. “Shopping?”

 

Giles ducked his head, concealing a little grin. “I am sure I will come to regret this, but yes, shopping.”

 

“I think we both deserve a little retail therapy. When do we leave?” Buffy asked excitedly.

 

Letting go of her hand, Giles looked at his watch. “In thirty minutes?”

 

Rising from the table, she placed her hand on his shoulder and said, “That’s more than enough time. I’ll meet you at the car.”

 

—————

 

Buffy thumbed through the gossip magazine she had picked up at the station as the train raced towards the capital city. Giles pulled a notebook from his briefcase, unscrewed the cap on his fountain pen, and started writing. Several minutes later with his brows furrowed together, he pulled his glasses off, set them set them aside, and ran his left hand along the back of his neck.

 

“Is everything okay?” she asked from her seat opposite him.

 

Raising his eyes to hers, he sighed, “Just making lists and prioritizing things that need to get done. It’s quite overwhelming.”

 

“Anything I can do to help?”

 

Giles picked up his pen and screwed the cap back on before setting it back down on the table. Hesitating a moment, he replied, “No, you are on holiday. Enjoy your time away from responsibilities.”

 

Buffy couldn’t help but feel there was more he wanted to say. “And your responsibilities?”

 

“Are rather monumental at the moment.”

 

“Tell me.”

 

Picking up his notebook, Giles glanced at the list before him, shaking his head. “I’m not sure when I can break away from my obligations here and move back to Sunnydale.” There was regret in his eyes. “Should you need to leave before I can break away, I promise to follow as soon as I can. But before I can leave, I have to interview people for the butler’s position and now I’ll need to find someone to replace myself as estate manager. I’m afraid these things take time. There’s a foal due to arrive in the next week or so and I have to make sure the veterinary is on call. Then there is a horse jumping competition I am judging a month from now, although perhaps I can pull out of that with enough notice. I need to schedule the next haying, then there is the fair-” 

 

Buffy tilted her head and looked up at him as he rattled off his list. Leaning forward, she took his notebook from him and closed it, laying it back down on the table. “Relax, okay? I’m not exactly on a timetable. Faith and Daniel have everything under control. The Hellmouth doesn’t need two Slayers guarding it.”

 

“I suppose not, you never needed the extra support, but having it when we did was extremely helpful.”

 

“It was,” she agreed. “It’s just that the Hellmouth isn’t _that..._ hellmouthy anymore. It just doesn’t seem to draw as many nasties as it used to - not enough to require two slayers and a Scooby Gang for support. Besides, Faith likes working alone... mostly… and Daniel seems to like working with Faith.”

 

“Well, we can certainly take our time then. It is summer as well, and that’s a usually a quiet time for demon activity.”

 

“I... I don’t think we need to go back there, Giles. Dawn is with Dad and that seems to be working out just fine. He’s actually committed to being involved and is making sure she grows up as normal as any LA kid can. Of course, she’s seen more horrors than he will ever know, but they are making it work. Xander and Anya have moved on. Tara and Willow will stay in Sunnydale if they feel obligated to, but without us there, Willow can pursue her PhD somewhere more prestigious and less _grrr_. I mean, she was accepted into every top ranked school she applied to back in high school. She should have the chance to go to someplace like that. Maybe this is the opportunity for all of us to leave the Hellmouth behind.” 

 

Giles was quiet, lost in thought. Finally he looked up at her and said, “You’re right, of course. Do you have a plan?”

 

“A few ideas, maybe, but nothing even remotely set in stone, much less Jell-O. I mean, I wasn’t expecting to find you so easily, and then I wasn’t really sure what to expect when I did.”

 

“But you are thinking of leaving Sunnydale,” he said quietly.

 

Buffy looked back out the window before catching his eyes again. “Yeah, I’ve wanted to for a while. I just never thought it was a possibility until now.”

 

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, giving her an encouraging smile and, covering her hand with his, added, “together.”


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 

 

“Hello, Mr Travers,” Buffy greeted with modest civility as she and Giles walked through his office doors, interrupting a meeting with several of his staff.

 

“Ah, Miss Summers, welcome,” Quentin Travers answered, his voice a bit thin, as he stood up from his seat behind his desk. “I see the prodigal Watcher has returned,” he sneered as looked at Giles. “Again.”

 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Buffy said with no trace of apology, ignoring his dig at her Watcher. “But Paul said you were in meetings all day, not to be disturbed, and well, we’re only in town for the afternoon and I know I have certain entitlements within the Council. I promise we won’t take up too much of your time.”

 

Upon approaching the Head Watcher’s desk, they passed one of the men Buffy recognized as having accompanied Travers on his trip to Sunnydale a couple years back.

 

“Nigel, it’s good to see you again,” Giles greeted politely, extending his hand, but dropped it when the other man refused to take it. Having been rebuffed, Giles greeted his boss. “Hello, Quentin.”

 

“Rupert,” the older man acknowledged, looking more worn than Buffy had described the day before.

 

“Our business is of a private nature,” Giles continued. “Perhaps you can call an intermission and resume back up in half an hour or so.”

 

“Shall I call security, Sir?” Nigel asked his superior, unable to conceal the displeasure in his voice.

 

“There is no need for the heavy hand, Nigel.” Travers looked to the members of his team and spoke to them in a resigned tone, “The Slayer’s business trumps ours. Please excuse us, ladies and gentlemen. We shan’t be long.”

 

“Sir-” the dark haired man objected.

 

“The Council serves the Slayer, Nigel.” Quentin rebuked, his tone patronizing as he clasped his hands behind his back.

 

Nigel turned on his heel and shot an irate glare at the Giles and his little renegade Slayer before leaving the office in a huff.

 

“Please, do have a seat,” the Head Watcher invited, taking his place behind his desk. As Buffy and Giles sat down in the chairs sat opposite, he reprimanded, “Such a display was unnecessary, I assure you.”

 

“I highly doubt that you would’ve cleared your schedule for me,” Giles replied, folding his hands in his lap.

 

“For you, no. Miss Summers, on the other hand, has an entirely different set of privileges.”

 

“I see.”

 

“Abandonment of duty has its consequences.”

 

Buffy’s hackles went up. Nothing ever changed with Travers. He was arrogant and liked to bait his subordinates, bullying them into submission, and it hadn’t escaped her notice that the Head Watcher was the only man that Giles was consistently unable to stand up to. Quentin always seemed to be one step ahead of Giles and always flustered him. The only time Giles had been able to confront him was when he had decided to end that insane test and protect her from the consequences of his actions after, but by then it had been too late to make a difference.

 

Giles clenched his jaw, clearly biting down on the scathing epithets he wanted to hurl at his employer before responding cooly, “If you had bothered to contact me or taken my calls, you’d know that wasn’t the case. Need I remind you that I’d been gravely injured in the fight against Glory? That it had taken me a year and a half to recover to the point I could resume my duties?”

 

“No one has forgotten anything of the like, Rupert,” Travers replied, leaning back in his chair. “And no one would’ve blamed you for not returning to duty after the injuries you sustained. Your _past_ service to the Council and to your Slayer is not in question. However, you never submitted the necessary paperwork from your doctor stating you were fit to return nor did you report in for duty.”

 

“I submitted the required files stating my intent to return a year ago after the doctor pronounced I could walk again without the crutches,” Giles countered. “And I am here now to tell you that I am resuming my duties as Buffy’s Watcher.”

 

“The paperwork never made it to my desk. You will need to pass a comprehensive fitness exam before I can clear you for duty. Make an appointment with Doctor Jonasson. Her findings will be sent to me.”

 

Giles picked up his briefcase and pulled out a file, handing it to Travers. “These are my medical records which includes the most recent physical I had three months ago. Also included is the statement of fitness signed by my doctor, my physical therapist, and the psychologist who helped me through my ordeal. They are all affiliated with the Council. It will suffice.”

 

“I see,” the old Watcher said, taking the file and leafing through it with feigned interest before addressing Giles again. “Welcome back, Rupert.”

 

“Just like that?” Buffy asked incredulously, expecting more verbal sparring and imagined roadblocks prior to having her Watcher reinstated.

 

“He’s fit. He wants to return to duty. Do you have any objections, Miss Summers?”

 

“No, I just-”

 

“I didn’t think so. Now I need to get back to my meeting. Enjoy the rest of your holiday,” Travers dismissed.

 

“We’re not quite finished yet,” Giles insisted, straightening in his seat. “There is a little matter I want resolved. Buffy and I have been deliberately kept apart. About a year ago someone my father trusts in the Council contacted him with the news that Buffy had been killed in action. My father, in turn, passed the message along to me.”

 

Quentin Travers leaned forward in interest and raised an eyebrow. “Who told your father this falsehood?”

 

“I-I don’t know. Dad… didn’t say. He just informed me of the news after it was relayed to him.”

 

Travers sat back in his chair and gave Giles a pointed look. “Rupert,” the older Watcher started with a sigh. “Rumors fly with abandon around these halls. A year ago the Board voted to return Ms Lehane to active duty. I am fairly certain her impending release and return to the Hellmouth would’ve prompted plenty of speculation. Perhaps your father’s source heard the news and assumed the worst.”

 

“My father is a high ranking Council official, not some neophyte fresh out of the Academy. It would take more than rumors to make him believe and pass on such news to me. This was a very elaborate plot because any and all attempts made by Buffy or myself to contact one another had been interfered with. That could only happen with the help of another high ranking operative within the Council,” Giles spat, his eyes hard and accusatory. “Would you happen to know why?”

 

“If you are assuming I had anything to do with this, I will remind you to curb your tongue, Rupert. I am your superior,” Quentin answered, his voice calm. “ Now, I haven’t the foggiest idea as to why. Did you receive any official communications from my office with the supposed news of Miss Summers’ death?”

 

“No, but then I never expected to.”

 

“We do follow procedure in such cases,” Travers reminded with a grimace of disgust. “And clearly you did not verify the information with me or any of my staff. Why would you assume your Slayer was dead?”

 

That was a very valid question and Giles, whose patience was already wearing thin with Travers’ flippant attitude towards the situation, felt every bit a fool for not addressing the matter of Buffy’s “death” with his boss at the time by coming to the Council offices and insisting on a meeting with him.

 

“I received the news from my father.” Giles kept his tone even as he removed his glasses and placed them in his breast pocket. “What would you think in my situation?”

 

“I see. For a start, I would’ve corroborated the story and not taken the “news” for face value, respected and well liked though your father is. As to what _I_ would have thought? Well, I would think that two Slayers are more effective against evil than one, and Miss Lehane continuing to serve time in jail after repenting was a huge waste of resources and talent. Really, Rupert,” Travers replied with a smirk, suddenly more animated than he had been, stoked by the verbal sparring match. “We did it to provide _your_ Slayer with an advantage.”

 

Buffy stirred in her seat, her disdain for the man in charge increasing as he baited her Watcher again while looking smug like a hyena toying with his prey. To her right she noticed Giles straightening in his seat, his jaw set and his eyes cold, refusing to be intimidated anymore.

 

“You’re an intelligent man. Do I have to spell out the reasons for you? The Slayer line goes through Faith. With Buffy gone, you’d have a decision to make: release Faith or kill her. Since she had reformed and repented, the only civilized decision to be made was to let her go. A simple matter for Council bureaucrats to sort out with the California penal system,” Giles expounded as he kept control of his anger.

 

“Did you confirm Buffy’s “death” with the active Watcher?” Travers asked, knowing full well the answer.

 

Giles looked away and uttered, “No, as stated before, our communications were intercepted. I was not successful in reaching him, for the same reason I was not successful in reaching any of Buffy’s friends or receiving any communications from them.”

 

“Any attempts on your part were unsuccessful, yet you never heard anything official from my office and you never reported back to me. I am your superior. I know you don’t like me, Giles, but ultimately, everything concerning the Slayers comes and goes through me. You _know_ this.”

 

The verbal tennis match ended as the older man set the point up and hit a winner down the line. As the corner of Travers’ lips twitched in victory, Buffy tamped down the desire to push him through the very expensive eighteenth century glass window panes behind him.

 

“Really, Rupert,” he tutted with a self-congratulatory note. “Surely you are a better Watcher than that.”  
  
“Listen!” Giles interrupted, his anger finally erupting to the surface. “Someone manipulated or bribed my butler to prevent me from having contact with Buffy. He’s admitted that much. Most likely it’s the same someone who leaked that vicious rumor and sold it as truth to my father. I want to know what you know. Douglas clearly didn’t act alone and he had to have had help from someone fairly high up in the organization. Perhaps several someones. It’s an elaborate plot because my father, who was at the time and currently still is stationed in Bermuda, in case you’ve forgotten, was the target for the information.”

 

“So the butler did it?” Quentin’s eyes sparkled with amusement. He quickly schooled himself before adding, “I had nothing to do with keeping the two of you apart, Rupert. Even I can’t conjure up a fake knighting to complete the farce.”

 

Buffy had had enough of the verbal sparring between the two men and interjected, “Why would Giles believe he would be knighted upon my death? After taking the scenic route to become my Watcher and then being fired, I am sure the Council would decide it wasn’t warranted even though it would be so horribly mistaken.” She paused for effect. “And, in case you’ve forgotten, you’ve threatened to tear us apart once before.”

 

“More than once,” Giles added tersely.

 

“Your emotions got you fired, Rupert though perhaps I was wrong. It wasn’t a father’s love was it?” Travers’ goaded, stroking his beard. “Or perhaps it’s just grown into something more since.”

  
  
“There is a bond between a Watcher and Slayer and you damn well know it!” Giles’ raised his voice as he approached the Head Watcher, finger pointed and green eyes darkened with rage.

 

“Calm yourself, old boy,” Travers said, holding up his hands in a placating manner. “This is Council Headquarters, not some ramshackle pub in Whitechapel.” 

 

“Oh yes, let’s bring up my rebellious youth at every opportunity, Quentin. It’s a tiresome tune some twenty odd years after the fact,” he said with calm disdain. Giles flattened his palms against his superior’s desk and leaned over them, invading the older man’s space. “Tell me, how can one feel partiality after working so closely with the other? Buffy and I are partners in this battle against evil. We study. We train. We fight side by side. We must trust each other implicitly. How are we not supposed to form an attachment to one another? My god, your own brother was an Active Watcher. Given his Potential in her infancy, he raised her as his own, trained her, stood by her when she was Called, and fought by her side.”

 

Fury flashed in the Head Watcher’s eyes, and though he rose from his desk with some difficulty, his face flush red. “And they were _both_ killed trying to save the other, unfocused on the issue at hand, and a whole region was devastated by a master vampire and his brood because of their attachment.”

 

Buffy looked at Giles in horror. How could the Council take an infant from its parents?

 

Seeing the look on the Slayer’s face, Travers quickly composed himself and explained with an impatient sigh, “She was an orphan, Miss Summers. The Council had identified her as a Potential. My brother was newly married and his wife insisted on taking the child in, instead of fostering her with an impartial Watcher family. After Lucy lost them both, she took her own life, consumed by her grief.”

 

“I-I am sorry for your loss,” Buffy stammered in surprise.

 

“It was long ago,” the old Watcher dismissed before turning his attention back to Giles. “If you want answers, Rupert, I suggest you look closer to home. The butler was in your family’s employ. I had nothing to do with it. And have your father pursue a line of questioning with his _mysterious_ colleague.”

 

Giles glanced at Buffy, who just shook her head in frustration. There were no answers here. Quentin Travers had proven a dead end.

 

The elder Watcher sat back down heavily in his chair and rearranged the files on his desk. “If we are quite done here, the door is behind you,” he said distractedly as he looked over a document.

 

“Just one more thing,” Giles interrupted. When Quentin gave him his attention, he continued, “We’ll not be returning to the Hellmouth. Buffy tells me the activity has dwindled and that Daniel and Faith are managing well on their own.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Buffy and I will go where we are needed, should trouble arise.”

 

Quentin sat back in seat and eyed the Watcher and Slayer. “I accept those terms. There are demonic issues that flare up globally that are easier for a Slayer to handle than a team of Watchers. Leave your contact information with Paul. Someone will get in touch when problems arise.”

 

Giles nodded. “Good day to you, Quentin.”

 

“Oh, Rupert,” The older man called. Giles and Buffy stopped their progress and turned as one to look him. “I am not entirely without sentiment. I read the reports from Wyndam-Pryce.” His hard blue eyes sized up the younger Watcher. “So much information garnered between the lines regarding your interference with the Slayers. I could’ve had you deported for it, I didn’t.”

 

Though his green eyes flashed in anger, Giles remained calm. “He was ill-prepared and unqualified.”

 

Quentin shrugged indifferently. “So he was.”

 

Buffy couldn’t believe this admission. Travers had sent Wesley knowing he was unsuitable for the job. He’d continued to put her and her loved ones in danger even after she’d passed the Cruciamentum. She was about to unleash a scathing attack the Head Watcher’s way, but Giles quickly took her hand and led her out the door, closing it behind them.

 

“Giles!” she complained twisting out of his grip in a temper.

 

“Not here,” he entreated with a whisper, invading her space, his face a scant few inches from hers, nodding in the direction of the group of Watchers who had been in Travers’ office earlier and who were now waiting in the small reception area. Buffy relented, folding her arms and closing herself off before they made their way over to Paul’s desk.

 

“What can I do for you, sir?” the assistant asked.

 

“Quentin asked that I leave our contact information with you,” Giles answered, jotting down the numbers to his mobile phone. He looked to his Slayer who shook her head, her anger plainly written on her face. Passing the paper to Paul, he said, “At the moment we can be reached at this number or at my father’s home. That number is on file.”

 

“Thank you, sir. Miss. Good day to you both,” the assistant said before turning to Nigel. “Mr Sadana, you and the rest of the team may resume your meeting with Mr Travers now.”

 

“Thank you,” Nigel replied as he stood up, directing a nasty scowl in Buffy and Giles’ direction.

  
  
As soon as they left the building and were out of the scrutiny of passersby, Buffy grabbed Giles’ shoulder, turned him around, and ranted, “You should’ve let me yell at him! Where the _hell_ does he get off? What a pompous _asshole_!” Giles just stuffed his hands in his pockets and let her have her tirade. “He didn’t care if I died. He wasn’t even sorry that insane... _monster_... kidnapped and nearly killed my mother! Just another... _variable_ in that... barbaric test. How will Buffy react with no powers, her mother kidnapped by a psychopathic vampire, and unable to trust her Watcher anymore? Can she think clearly? Or do we get a new Slayer out of this? _Fuck!_ As long as Council tradition was served, the test given, and I... no, _we_ followed the rules, damn the consequences!” She growled in anger before pointing towards the building, yelling, “Damn him!”

 

She was livid and stormed off the Council grounds, animatedly throwing her hands in the air and yelling, “And don’t even get me started on Wesley!”

 

Pushing through crowds, she made her way down towards the river where she had sought refuge only a couple days before. If she hadn’t been with Giles, Buffy would’ve just run. He followed her a step or two behind, allowing her to work off some of the negative energy. She finally stopped after passing Westminster Palace and turning onto the Victoria Embankment.

 

Spotting a pebble the size of a two pound coin, Buffy picked it up and chucked it into the Thames as hard as she could out into the grey depths. It did nothing to abate her anger and she turned and saw her Watcher standing a few feet away, his shoulders hunched and an apologetic look on his face.

 

“He threatened _us,_ threatened your green card! Withheld information on Glory so that I would tow the line and be a good little Slayer while that psycho bitch threatened my family, hell bent on destroying the world so she could go back to her dimension. None of that mattered to him! He had to play his little head games. I almost lost my sister, and in the end, it nearly cost me you! And now he says he could’ve had you deported after he _fired_ you, but he didn’t? What’s the goddamn point of saying something like that?”

 

Pacing and gesticulating wildly, Buffy ranted, “Has he ever once apologized? No! And then he drops Faith in my lap without so much as a thank you. What if she hadn’t been stable? She’d tried to kill me… to… to steal my life from me. It took everything I had to let her back into my life, to trust her again, to not choke the living shit out her with my bare hands. _Goddamn him!”_ she yelled, running her hands through her hair, finally letting the tears fall.

 

Giles took two long strides towards her and pulled her into the warmth of his arms, cradling her head with his left hand while whispering nonsensical words into her ear as she sobbed into his chest, the pain of the last couple years overwhelming her.

 

“God, I’d thought I’d lost you,” she wept, raising her head to look up at him.

 

“No, never,” he whispered vehemently, shaking his head.

 

“I saw you lying there, ghostly pale, barely breathing, blood _everywhere_...” Buffy placed her right hand to his chest, where the bullets had pierced him. “And then in the ambulance, your heart stopped and I-”

 

“Shhhhh.”

 

“And earlier that day, I’d threatened you... the last thing I said-”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” he assured her quietly, seeking her mossy green eyes, his forehead resting against hers. “No words were needed. I knew. We’d said our goodbyes in the abandoned gas station in the desert, remember? No need to rehash what transpired in the training room. I knew.”

 

“Giles... I’m sorry... so, so, sorry!”

 

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing away the pain of the past. “I know. I am sorry, too, for all of it.”

 

Their apologies were a salve for their wounded souls. In all their talks, their previous phone conversations, they’d never spoken of the day they defeated Glory, the harsh words that had been said in the hours leading up to the battle, or the resulting consequences, before losing touch. 

 

“Letting you go was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” Buffy professed in a whisper as she lifted her head, her eyes reflecting her anguish as she drew nearer until her lips came within a hairsbreadth of his.

 

Giles’ breathing was ragged and she felt his warm breath caress her mouth. His eyes were an almost impossible shade of bright green, reminding her of fresh grass on a dewy spring morning. She nuzzled his nose with hers, the aura of anticipation thick between them. His breathing hitched and he hesitantly lowered his mouth to hers and took her lips in a gentle kiss.

 

Her heart racing, Buffy avidly returned his kiss, applying more pressure as she possessively hugged him tighter. Giles moved his hands up and framed her face between them, directing their movements, probing her mouth with his tongue as he deepened the kiss, and letting out a soft moan when it found hers.

 

The world around them melted away and they poured their hearts into the other until Big Ben chimed the half hour, bringing them back to reality. Ending the kiss, Giles returned his forehead to rest against hers, his thumbs wiping away the errant tears on her cheeks.

 

“I love you,” Buffy declared, moving her hands back to his chest. “God, how I love you.”

 

Giles pulled his head away and tenderly lifted her chin. The small smile that graced his lips lit up his entire face, the laugh lines around his eyes emphasizing the happiness that shone within his bright green irises. She shyly returned his smile and lowered her eyes, slightly embarrassed.

 

“I’ve wanted to tell you since before you got on that plane, but I kept wimping out.”

 

Leaning in, her Watcher tenderly kissed her again before pulling her into an embrace and resting his cheek on the top of her head. “I love you too, Buffy,” he breathed.

 

They stood there quietly for several minutes as both tourists and Londoners passed them by. Buffy felt his heart beat rapidly and remembered the time when it had stopped entirely. The thought made her blood run cold again and she hugged him tighter. Hearing him sigh, she waited for him to say something, but when he didn’t she left his embrace, took his hand in hers, and led him to the wall along the bank of the river.

 

“What are you thinking?” Buffy asked as she turned to face him again, trying to fight the concern rising within her.

 

Giles looked down at their joined hands before quietly answering, “Marveling at this wonder.”

 

Buffy followed his gaze and ran her thumb over his. “This is a good.”

 

“It is,” he reassured her. After a lingering moment, he raised her hand and pressed his lips against her palm. “I simply find myself with so much to say a-and yet, I’m rather speechless at the moment.”

 

As he held her hand, Buffy moved it to cradle his cheek and watched him lean into her touch. Unable to resist the lure of his lips, she drew him down for another kiss, not caring if they were making a scene and offending British propriety so near the halls of power. All that mattered in that moment was that she was finally with Giles and that things finally felt right. When the kiss ended, Buffy held him tightly to her, not wanting to let go, and as he returned the embrace with equal fervor, she realized it was the same for him. 

 

“We should probably go have that late lunch,” Giles stated, as he reluctantly pulled away from her with an adorable grin. “And I believe I promised a little sightseeing and shopping before catching the late train home.”

 

“I know we’re here now, and ordinarily I wouldn’t turn down food or shopping, but do you think we could do this another time and head back early? It’s kind of been an emotional day.”

 

He looked surprised at first and then a bit chagrined, as if he should’ve known better. “Right, erm, o-of course.”

 

Looping her arm through his, they walked back along the Embankment towards Big Ben. “I swear, Giles, when we find the people who did this to us, there is going to be some major ass kickage.”

 

“I’d like to get in on that action,” he agreed. “It’s been two years and I could very much thrash something within an inch of its life.”

 

She gazed up at him with a twinkle in her eye. “You got it, but I think some training is in order, mister. I know you are fit and you’re doing the whole horse riding, jumping, and probably polo playing thing, but I want to make sure you are in top fighting shape. Plus, if we’re doing the Watcher/Slayer thing, we need to get used to fighting together again.”

 

“Sound advice,” he agreed. “We can start tomorrow morning.”


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 

 

The sun’s rays streamed through the gap in the curtain and slowly brought a slumbering Slayer to consciousness. Buffy turned in the huge bed and hugged the duvet to herself, basking in the warmth and comfort of her sanctuary when a little smile rose on her lips as the events of the previous evening popped into her head. After Giles had convinced her to stop for a late lunch, he and Buffy had left London and she’d fallen asleep curled into the crook of his shoulder with his arm draped around her on the train. When they’d arrived at their destination, she’d found her energy restored and he’d then taken her on a driving tour of the surrounding area before stopping in the ancient town of Wells for a late dinner in an old tavern near the cathedral. Afterwards they walked the public grounds hand in hand before the ancient gothic cathedral as it stood majestically beneath the floodlights against the midnight blue sky.

 

Upon returning to the house, he’d escorted her to the door of her room and softly kissed her goodnight. Considering they’d both confessed their love for one another, the evening had been fairly chaste, neither one ready to rush into anything more, each wanting to enjoy every single moment as their relationship unfolded. They’d held hands in the car, hugged and kissed at every possibility, and walked around town with their arms around each other, not wanting to let go after so long apart.

 

A light rasp at the door pulled Buffy from her musings and she sat up and ran her hands through her hair in a vain attempt to tame it before calling, “Come in.”

 

Giles entered her room smiling and carrying a tray with a plate eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, and a cup of coffee. Off to one side of the tray was a small vase of fresh wild flowers from the meadow and Buffy smiled at his thoughtfulness.

 

“Good morning,” he greeted, returning her smile. “You didn’t come down for breakfast so I thought I would bring breakfast up to you. I hope you don’t mind.”

 

Glancing quickly at the clock, Buffy noted that it was half past ten. “Wow, Giles, no I don’t mind, but why didn’t you wake me up sooner?”

 

He placed the tray before her and gently sat down on the edge of the bed. “You needed the sleep, jet lag notwithstanding. I rang Daniel early this morning to let him know you arrived safe and he filled me in on the past year.”

 

“Oh… I can’t imagine he was very complimentary about my performance this past year,” she said, tucking into her breakfast.

 

“He’s been… concerned, and rightly so. He agrees that you need a little R&R.”

 

“Yeah, I think we can all agree to that. I’m surprised you got through to him considering the issue with the phones.”

 

“I couldn’t on the house phone or my mobile. They’re still being tampered with, so I borrowed one of the staff’s,” Giles explained as Buffy shook her head in disgust. “I’ll need to figure out how to fix that. I should’ve told Douglas to fix it before I sacked him.”

 

“So how are Daniel and Faith?”

 

“The summer boredom is kicking in.”

 

“It’s only the end of May!” she laughed, taking a sip of her coffee. “But, that’s Faith, always needing the action. He’s going to need to take her to LA on a hunting excursion or she will drive him crazy. That or she’ll finally expend that pent up energy by breaking down that British reserve and taking him to bed.” Buffy blushed as she noticed her Watcher nervously rise from his sitting position on her bed, his cheeks turning a particularly lovely shade of crimson.

 

“Erm… Are they…?”

 

Suddenly finding interest in the duvet cover pattern, Buffy answered, “Yeah, they definitely have a thing for each other. It’s… uh… kind of cute. She’s usually all ‘want. take. have.’ but she’s actually quite considerate of him once they get the Slayer business out of the way. I’m not sure if Daniel’s ready for anything more yet.” Missing Giles’ presence, she moved the tray, rose from the bed, and walked over to him, taking his hand in hers before shyly looking up with a smile. “You know, Giles, you haven’t kissed me good morning, and I’m starting to worry that yesterday might’ve been some really long, involved, highly emotional dream.”

 

He looked pleased and lightly stroked her cheek with his fingers before leaning down and gently brushing his lips across hers. Buffy circled her arms around his neck, wanting more and capturing his lips, kissing him with fervor as he responded in kind. 

 

When they broke apart, Giles gazed at her with an easy grin. “You know, you are quite adorable in the morning,” he murmured in a teasing voice as he fingered the lapel of her pajama top.

 

Buffy giggled. “You like my jammies?”

 

“I do,” he laughed in return, her good nature infectious. “They are a lovely shade of blue and the little white sheep that dot the fabric make the ensemble,” he replied as his smile broadened across his face.

 

“They’re whimsical!” 

 

“Indeed. A nice reminder that we should take the day for ourselves.” he stated, brushing his lips against hers. “No worrying about the Council or conspirators or any of that.”

 

“I thought you wanted to spend the day narrowing down our suspects and finding the asshole who took the last year from us?”

 

“As much as I hate to admit it, Quentin is right,” Giles started with an exasperated sigh as he let go of her and sat down in the plush leather chair. “We need to start with my father’s source and since I don’t know who that is, we are at loose ends at the moment. I am sure Dad’s curiosity was piqued once he heard you were alive and by now he’s probably started his own enquiries. I will ring him after dinner. In the interim, we should enjoy this beautiful day together. Perhaps some training, a little talking, and maybe a picnic for when we find ourselves hungry again. ”

 

“Sounds delightful.” Buffy grinned and kissed his chin. “Let me finish this yummy breakfast you thoughtfully brought up and then I’ll get ready for the day. See you in an hour?”

 

Giles nodded as he cupped her cheek with his left hand, his thumb gently brushing against the softness of her cheek. Buffy raised her eyes and searched his as her breathing quickened along with her heartbeat and in an instant their lips met. He’d intended the kiss to be brief and chaste, but it escalated quickly as she poured her emotions into the kiss, deepening it and taking the time to explore the sweetness of his lips and tongue, leaving them both breathless when he grudgingly ended the kiss.

 

“I’ll… uh… I should go,” he finally breathed.

 

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed reluctantly as she removed herself from his lap. Walking him to her door, she added. “I won’t be long, I promise.”

 

—————

 

Once again Giles took a tumble into the grass and he pounded his fist into the ground in frustration. Since the day he’d been told his Slayer had died, he’d not kept up with his fighting skills, focusing instead on horseback riding and show jumping, deliberately choosing not to have the daily reminder of going through the katas and bringing back all the memories he had of training her, of sharing time with her. It was just easier to change routine and try to move on, and if he were honest, it was also easier on his leg.

 

Buffy extended a hand and Giles took it gratefully as he pushed himself back up. Shaking his head he said balefully, “You’d think after the countless hours of training all my life, the muscles would instinctively remember the footwork.”

 

“I’m thinking we should put the sparring on hold, Giles, and just go through the routines slowly. When you are ready, we can build from there.”

 

“Truly a case of the student becoming the master,” he complimented with a hint of pride in her and annoyance at his own failings as he grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler and downed half of it.

 

“It’s my day job now. I teach martial arts at a local studio. Even though the house is paid off, thanks in part to Mom’s insurance and the rest to Dad’s intervention, I still couldn’t afford to go back to school. So I got a job to pay the bills and support myself. It’s fun. I get to teach both kids and adults, and it doesn’t interfere with patrol. I’ve even been awarded the title of favorite instructor by the students.”

 

“That’s fantastic, Buffy!” he beamed.

 

“I know that you would’ve wanted me to do both, but even with a student loan, the hours and the class schedules never lined up… and since I was already a year behind in studies, it was an easy choice,” she shrugged.

 

“I’m sorry,” Giles apologized, reaching into the cooler to grab another bottle of water. “With Faith patrolling the Hellmouth, maybe you can focus on school, if you like.”

 

“Maybe. Right now, I’m enjoying the break,” she said with a smile that faded quickly when she noticed the limp in his gait as he walked back towards her to hand her the other bottle. “Did you hurt yourself? You are favoring your leg.”

 

He shook his head in a dismissive manner. “It’s fine. I am sure it and the rest of me will be sore for a couple days as the muscles recover from being used in a manner in which they aren’t accustomed to. I probably shouldn’t have gone for a three mile run this morning if we were going to train. It doesn’t sound like much, but the hills are deceptive. Long steady climbs, even if the change in elevation isn’t significant.”

 

“Come on, let’s sit,” she said, motioning over to the outstretched blanket in the shade of the ancient hawthorn tree.

 

Of all the places they could’ve gone to spend their day, Buffy chose to return to the sacred place he’d taken her to the day she’d arrived. There was a certain underlying peace and, in a way, it felt as though she belonged there… with him. She wasn’t sure if it was the magicks or whether it was due to the certain properties of the tree or a combination of both, but she was drawn to it.

 

Giles stretched out on the blanket next to her, grimacing as he extended his legs and started to massage his aching quadricep.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, her eyes full of concern.

 

“I’ll be fine, Buffy, I promise, I’ve been cleared for duty, remember? Until I get back into fighting shape, I’ll be sore for a little while. I’m not a Slayer,” he reminded gently. “Nor am I twenty-something anymore.”

 

She gave him a tight smile and then bit her lip before looking away. “I know. I just can’t… help worrying. The last time I saw you… you were so… broken.”

 

Giles reached out and tenderly touched her cheek. “No more training today, and tomorrow we’ll start with your new regimen and take things slower,” he said softly, his voice reassuring. “I know the limitations of my body, I promise I won’t do anything to hurt myself.”

 

Buffy hugged him to her, her hands desperately grabbing at him to increase the contact.  The smell of his spicy cologne mixed with his own natural scent soothed the painful memories his aching leg had conjured. He kissed the top of her head before moving to kiss her temple. She nuzzled her nose against his neck, her warm breath causing him to shiver, and she could feel the change in his breathing, creating a heady atmosphere between them. Tilting her head, she placed an open mouth kiss on his neck before trailing little kisses up towards his jawline, causing him to moan in the back of his throat as he desperately sought out her mouth with his.

 

Lips, tongues, and teeth expressed what words could not, emotions filtering through action as their hands explored each other’s bodies. Buffy shifted and straddled Giles’ good thigh, searching for a better angle before she gently guided his torso down to the ground. Giles slipped a hand beneath her shirt and lightly trailed his fingers up and over her ribcage. Cupping her breast in his hand, his thumb circled the lace clad areola before moving to tease her nipple. Breaking the kiss with a guttural groan, Buffy arched into his hand, ending her latest assault on his mouth.

 

He followed her movements and sat up, pulling her shirt over her head before finding her neck with his mouth, licking and sucking and scraping his teeth over her pulse point. He was driving her to distraction, but she needed to touch him, to feel his skin beneath hers and she started to unbutton his shirt, loving the feel of the crisp hairs beneath her fingers as she blindly worked her way down until she had the last button undone.

 

Moving her hands back up his stomach and chest to help rid him of his shirt, Buffy stopped short when she felt the marred imperfections of his skin. She pulled away abruptly and stared horrified at the scars on his chest. The images of that night, of him bleeding out, of his heart stopping, and of him later, lying in a coma connected to wires and tubes, were too much for her and she reared back, bringing her hand to her mouth as her eyes widened in shock at the damage the bullets had left behind.

 

“Oh. My. God!” she gasped.

 

Giles immediately sat up, taking in the shock on her distressed face as she traced the dimpled and raised scars from the bullet wounds and the surgical procedures with a shaky finger.

 

He covered her hand with his, his eyes attempting to search hers, but she looked away as the tears started to fall and her body shook with a heart wrenching sob. “Buffy,” he murmured, trying to get her attention, but she sniffled and pulled away, crawling off of him.

 

As he ran his hands through his hair, Giles took a moment to observe her. Buffy stood up and crossed her arms, hugging her torso, as she turned from him. He didn’t move from his spot. “Buffy, please look at me.”

 

“I… I shouldn’t have come here. I should’ve… just let you be. God, I am so stupid and selfish! You should just… retire, Giles.”

 

“If you hadn’t come, my heart would still have a gaping hole in it.” She didn’t respond and he gingerly stood up and walked towards her. “Do you think that’s what I want, Buffy, to retire?” he asked quietly.

 

“Why not? You were, and then I showed up on your doorstep and dragged you back into this…  _nightmare_ ,” she asked defiantly, finally turning to face him. “You should find someone nice to settle down with, jump horses, live here in peace. No demons, no Hellmouth, no more risking your life.”

 

“Do you think I could just settle with someone else?” he asked, affronted by the mere suggestion. “Especially now? My heart is yours. It has been for some time, but now-”

 

“And what if it’s what I want for you?” she returned bitterly, challenging him.

 

“To live out the rest of my life worrying about you? Wondering every single moment whether you are getting the support you need? Whether some demon is going to be the one to take you from me whilst I sit here helpless? In the dark? I’ve done that, Buffy, I spent an entire year living like that until one day I was told you had died. And I spent another year unsuccessfully trying to find purpose in my life, blaming myself for not being there to help protect you, for not providing you with the tools to win the fight, for not… telling you that I love you. _That_ isn’t living. It’s _existing,_ ” he argued.

 

“I did a shit job protecting you,” she countered.

 

“It wasn’t your job that night, love. Your job was to stop Glory and rescue Dawn. We all knew our roles and the risks associated with them, and I am not sure any of us believed we would get out of there alive - least of all me. I was still suffering from the lance wound, and I was willing to do what needed to be done to save the world, no matter the cost. Yet here we are, and Xander, Anya, Willow, Tara, and Dawn are living the lives they deserve. Xander and Anya even have a little one on the way, heralding a new generation for us all. I’d say that is the mark of success.” He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers, but she didn’t look convinced. Taking her hand in his, he brought it up to his chest and she traced the ring of one of the bullet scars with the pad of her index finger.

 

“They look worse than they are. I should’ve prepared you for that, I am sorry,” he whispered at her caress. “I just wasn’t expecting things to… progress so quickly. The ones on my leg are much worse due to the surgeries and the external fixation device, but there is no pain associated with these injuries anymore, I assure you.”

 

“Will you… show me?” Buffy asked softly.

 

“My leg?” She nodded. Without hesitation Giles kicked off his shoes and shucked his jeans before settling himself back down on the blanket and extending his leg for her inspection. She knelt beside him, ghosting her hand along the disfigured skin on his thigh. The scars were bad, but somehow not as intense for her as the ones on his chest. “I’m sorry I can’t be perfect for you.”

 

Her eyes shot up to his and she bit her lip. “This isn’t… I’m… I don’t care about scars, Giles. I care about _you._ I love _you_.”

 

He reached out and cupped her cheek with a sad smile. “If you want me to retire, Buffy, I will, but on one condition.” She held her breath. “That you retire too.”

 

“I… I can’t leave Faith out there to fight alone, Giles. I mean, even if I’m not guarding the Hellmouth, it’s just too much to leave her alone to protect the world.”

 

“Then we remain active together,” he said with finality.

 

“Giles-”

 

“They are just scars, Buffy. Badges of honor serving you.”

 

“To you. To me, they are reminders of nearly losing you. These and the one on your side,” she said, her fingers brushing against the scar caused by the lance impalement at the hands of one of the knights of Byzantium. 

 

“How many close calls have we _both_ had over the last seven years?” Giles reasoned, tracing his finger over the scars on her neck. “Whether you are with me or not, I will face everyday with the fear that one day you won’t come back to me. We belong together. I know you believe that, Buffy, or you wouldn’t have asked me to be your Watcher again after the Initiative fiasco, and you certainly wouldn’t be here now.”

 

“I guess we’ve nearly lost the other a lot, huh?” she sniffed, looking down at their hands.

 

“Yes.” It was a simple statement. They both could recount all the injuries and illnesses that had the potential to be fatal.

 

Reaching out, she lightly ran her fingers over the wounds on his chest again and let out a soft sigh. “I killed that scabby little demon,” she said as she settled herself against him.

 

“I know,” he answered, hugging her close.

 

“I found it in Willy’s bar bragging to everyone there about how it ‘killed the Watcher.’” She spat the last three words out bitterly. “I was so enraged that I dragged it out of the bar and beat it to death in the alley. It was weak, and unarmed, and begging for mercy, promising to leave town, and I kept hitting it and kicking it, and slamming its head into the ground until it didn’t move anymore. And then I was so angry it was over that I beat it some more,” she confessed. “When I was done, I dragged the limp and bloody body back into Willy’s and let all the vermin know that if any of them messed with any of mine again, I would do worse.”

 

He stroked her hair in reassurance. “It’s okay, Buffy.”

 

“It’s not, Giles, really it’s not, but… I accept my actions.” Taking her first full breath in what seemed like forever, she continued, “You’re the only person who knows what really happened that night… how I killed it.”

 

Tightening his arms around her, he kissed the top of her head. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me, I know that wasn’t easy.”

 

They sat there quietly, holding each other for sometime until the wind picked up. Giles looked towards the west, noting the build up of clouds. “Perhaps we should get dressed and head indoors. We have about twenty minutes before the storm arrives.”

 

Seeing the clouds for herself, Buffy grabbed her shirt, pulled it on, and started to pack their things while Giles pulled his jeans back on. “I’m sorry about earlier… about stopping. I just wigged.”

 

Gingerly kneeling down before her, he took her hands in his and leaned in to give her a reassuring kiss. “Never apologize.”

 

“I wanted to. Still do.”

 

“I do too, and we will when we’re ready.”

 

Buffy smiled at him, releasing his hands and buttoning his shirt for him. “Okay, but let’s not take too much time.”

 

“Oh god no.”

 

“So when we get back to the house, do you think maybe we could watch old movies late into the evening and order pizza?”

 

“I think that could be arranged,” he said with a smile as he stood and picked up the picnic basket.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 

 

The rain started just as they entered the house. After dropping off the basket and the blanket in the kitchen, Giles led Buffy through the house, holding hands and laughing. Just before they reached the drawing room, he drew her into his arms and placed his forehead against hers and she quickly stole a kiss from him. Before she could pull away, he growled and buried his head into her neck, playfully nipping at her jugular and causing her to laugh.

 

“Rupert! Come join me at once!”

 

Giles stopped short and his body went rigid at the stern tone of his mother’s voice. At Buffy’s surprised look, he placed his finger over her lips, his silent communication begging her to stay hidden. Dragging his left hand through his hair, he crossed the threshold and leaned against the door jam. “Mum, hello! You’re… uh… home.”

 

“Yes. I was quite distressed at the welcome I received… or lack thereof,” Ellie Giles spoke with a controlled rage. “Would you mind telling me what the _hell_ is going on around here?”

 

“I explained things to Dad when I phoned a few days ago, but he said you were staying with Aunt Amelia and in the interest of continued family harmony, I thought it best not to phone you. Are you well? How was the trip?”

 

Ellie huffed, “Other than being a little discombobulated at coming home to crickets, I am well. The trip was fine. Amelia is well and so are your cousins.”

 

“Glad to hear it.”

 

“Rupert, stop standing in the doorway like a naughty child and tell me why we have no butler.”

 

“Mum, before we get into all that, I have a surprise for you.” He then leaned back and looked to his left to Buffy, taking her hand before they walked into the room together.

 

“Hi, Ellie,” she said with a grin.

 

His mother stared in disbelief at the Slayer and grabbed hold of the nearest chair to steady herself. Giles and Buffy ran over to her side to assist her.

 

“Mum?” he asked with great concern as Buffy placed a supporting hand underneath her forearm.

 

“Don’t touch me!” Ellie ground out, pulling her arm from Buffy’s grasp as her anger reached an even higher plateau.

 

Buffy recoiled and backed away, reeling from the rejection and trying to control her hurt feelings.

 

“Mother!” Giles retorted in indignation and embarrassment. Casting a quick glance at Buffy, he mouthed, “Sorry,” with a pained expression.

 

Ellie lowered herself into the chair and shook her head, her face grave. “Oh, my dear boy, what have you done?” she asked quietly, white faced and visibly shaken after she finally getting herself under control.

 

“I… I haven’t done anything.”

 

“Don’t lie, Rupert!” she suddenly yelled, her ire returning in spades. “This house _reeks_ of magick! And I can see in your aura that you have cast recently.”

 

Buffy faded further away, finding a quiet corner, hurt and confused by his mother’s anger. She had grown to like Giles’ mother during those early weeks of his recovery in the hospital. Ellie had watched over him with a fierceness that had eclipsed even her own, and it had put Buffy at ease knowing that his mother was there fussing over him and protecting him when she couldn’t be there. She’d formed a partnership with Ellie, taking turns by Giles’ side and working together when it was needed, but she also learned to steer clear of Ellie’s wrath.

 

“Mum, I haven’t. Well, I did, but-“

 

“Tell the truth, son! This sort of thing… it’s just not done!”

 

—————

 

_“How is my darling boy today?” Ellie asked as she came in to relieve Buffy from her shift at the hospital. She placed a paper sack on the tray table near the bed before taking for her son’s hand in hers and leaning down to place a kiss on his forehead._

 

_Buffy stood and stretched, her vigil over for another ten hours. “The doctors think one more day in the coma. The orthopedic surgeon came in and looked at his leg. He’s pleased with the way the wounds are healing. The cardiothoracic surgeon isn’t quite as happy. She says his blood oxygen levels aren’t quite up to where they should be just yet and his blood pressure is a little low for her liking, but she’s not overly concerned at this time considering everything he’s gone through.”_

 

_“No signs of infection?”_

 

_“His temperature has been a steady 98.7 and all the wounds look clean.”_

 

_“And the last round by his nurses?”_

 

_Buffy looked at the digital alarm clock on the tray table Xander had brought in for them. “About an hour ago.”_

 

_Ellie nodded and sat down in the chair next to the bed that Buffy had vacated a few moments before. “I brought you something from the deli on Main Street. I thought you might be tired of hospital food. Take a few minutes to eat. You need to keep your strength, dear.”_

 

_“Thank you!” Buffy tore into the sack and took out the turkey sandwich. There was only so much jello and bland mystery meals she could endure. The orderly had said the hospital dinner been turkey pot pie when he brought in the tray, but it smelled like cat food and she had placed it uneaten outside the room for pick up later. “God, I swear, this is the best sandwich.”_

 

_“Frederick is waiting in Rupert’s car for you in Lot A, but don’t rush, he’s got his head in some demonology compendium he found on Rupert’s shelves. Oh, and fair warning, he wants to join you on patrol tonight. There’s no fool like an old fool,” she sighed in exasperation._

 

_“I’ll make sure nothing happens to him.”_

 

_“Seventy-three years old and that old goat wants to investigate the Hellmouth,” Ellie grumbled in disbelief._

 

_“We’ll hang out in Restfield Cemetery. There hasn’t been a burial there for days. And it’s been really quiet here since I… since Glory died.”_

 

_The older woman waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “He’s a Watcher.”_

 

_‘The apple and the tree,’ Buffy thought with amusement. There was a reason she felt an instant connection to Frederick Giles. He was curious, brave, and protective. It was clear he worried about her and wanted to make sure she was safe. Ellie took a little longer to warm up to, but it was her gentle nature with her son that drew Buffy to her… that, and the intensity with which she advocated for Giles’ wellbeing amongst the nursing staff and his doctors._

 

_Having finished her sandwich, Buffy walked over to Giles’ free side and took his hand in hers. “See you in about ten hours. Be good to your Mum, okay? She’s doing the mama lion thing for you. And after I get back, I expect you to open those bright green eyes of yours, okay? So concentrate on healing and come back to us.”_

 

_Buffy squeezed his hand, not comfortable enough in his mother’s presence to run her fingers through his hair or kiss his cheek, before reluctantly letting go._

 

_“Good hunting tonight, Buffy.”_

 

_“Thanks, Ellie. I’ll call you from Gi- Rupert’s place after patrol to let you know we got back safe.”_

 

_“Thank you.”_

 

—————

 

“Rupert, you know the conditions put on your magick use!” Ellie quickly turned to Buffy, her face full of concern and her voice softening. “This poor girl!”

 

“Umm… Ellie, I don’t understand.” Buffy said tentatively, interrupting the older woman’s tirade, confusion mingling with her hurt feelings.

 

Turning back to her son, the older woman’s eyes grew large with the realization of consequence. “Oh, dear god! Did you at least make sure her soul is in tact, Rupert?” She then returned her attention to Buffy, muttering to herself about good intentions and repercussions and roads to hell.

 

“Mum!” Giles yelled, finally getting his mother’s attention. “Buffy is alive… has been all this time, I promise you. She came looking for _me_.”

 

Ellie focused once again on Buffy, before walking over to her and taking her hands in hers. She then closed her eyes in concentration. Buffy looked to Giles with wide, inquiring eyes. When she was done, Giles’ mother let go of the Slayer’s hands and pulled her into a fierce hug. The acceptance felt good and Buffy melted into the embrace, accepting Ellie’s affection and letting go of the hurt and confusion.

 

Pulling away, Ellie cupped the young woman’s cheek and recounted, “It was a sad day in our house when we were told of your passing, Buffy. Harder still that we were separated from Rupert and Frederick had to deliver the news to him over the phone.”

 

But the use of magick had caught Buffy off guard and she stared at Ellie in shock. “You, uh… you’re a…” She turned to Giles for help. “She didn’t need a tree. Why didn’t she need a tree to read me?”

 

“Because my powers are different from Rupert’s, nor are they bound.”

 

“Bound?” she asked, seeking her Watcher’s eyes.

 

“Penance for the Eyghon affair, amongst other abuses in my youth, and the condition for my reinstatement at the Council,” Giles explained. “I cannot use magick for myself, only to help others, nor can I access dark magicks.”

 

“But there’s the loophole with the tree? I mean, you accessed the magick to find out if I had a soul.”

 

“I asked the hawthorn tree for aid to determine your status for more than my own curiosity, Buffy. A broken or soulless Slayer could place the world in danger.”

 

“Was that the only magick you’ve done, Rupert?” his mother asked.

 

“Yes, Mum.”

  
  
“Then why is the house simply crawling with it?” she asked with disgust as she looked uneasily around the room.

 

Watcher and Slayer looked at each other, both realizing the reason immediately.

 

“Douglas!” Giles growled angrily. “He must’ve been using magicks to block my phone calls to Sunnydale.”

  
  
“Douglas? Poppycock!” Ellie exclaimed, defending the butler. “That man doesn’t have a magickal bone in his body.”

 

“Well, someone has been tampering with our communications and Douglas has admitted to interfering with our post and ignoring Buffy’s requests to speak with me when she phoned.”

 

“He even tried to turn me away when I showed up a few days ago.”

 

Ellie furrowed her brow and steepled her fingers together. “We’ve always had a welcoming policy here. Douglas knows that. Please take a seat and let’s start at the beginning. There seems to be quite a bit that I need to catch up on.”

 

They spoke for almost an hour, telling Ellie everything that had transpired up until that point, including their theories involving the conspiracy and the Council, but they each left out the personal details of their relationship, since neither really knew what to say about that, although it was clear to anyone watching that they were extremely familiar with one another, sitting so close to the other on the couch, they could almost be touching.

 

“So the last time you had any communication with each other was about three months after we left for the Bahamas,” Ellie summed up.

 

“Yes, I had just told Giles about the karate demon we were up against,” Buffy said, eyeing her Watcher.

 

Giles glanced at her and let out a slight giggle. His mother’s eyes went wide and he schooled himself before correcting his Slayer. “Karschtich demon.”

 

“Right,” she confirmed with a wink and he giggled again.

 

Ellie ignored their antics. “Four Council representatives showed up here to inform your father of his new assignment and that it was of the upmost urgency that he leave within the fortnight. Do you remember who they were, Rupert?”

 

“No, Mum, I wasn’t here. I was out at the physio’s that day.”

 

“We’ll have to ask your father.”

 

“He’s still in Haiti. I spoke with him a couple days ago when I phoned to tell you both about Buffy. I was going to ring his mobile this evening to ask him who it was who relayed the information about Buffy’s death, but… here we are.”

 

“I begged him not to go on that mission,” his mother sighed. “He’s too old for that sort of thing and it’s what he has underlings for. He should be here with us, enjoying a much needed holiday.” The frustration seeped out of her voice.

 

“It sounds awfully fishy to me,” Buffy began. “They certainly don’t want the three of you together. The conspiracy could unravel.”

 

“The four of us,” Giles corrected, placing his hand on her knee before quickly pulling it away. “And they certainly don’t want Dad anywhere near headquarters.”

 

“No they don’t,” Ellie agreed. “That appointment to the Caribbean theatre never made any sense. I understand Sir Henry died unexpectedly, but that assignment is meant for someone far younger and far more fit than Frederick.”

 

“Dad’s fit.”

 

“He’s seventy-five, Rupert, and in fine shape for a man his age, but not for investigating the usual supernatural incidents in Haiti, and whatever is happening there now, is far worse than the usual supernatural incidents.”

 

“We’ll phone him after dinner,” Giles responded with an air of worry.

 

Ellie nodded slightly before schooling the look of concern on her face. “Of course all regional appointments come from the Head of Council’s office. Are you sure Quentin Travers isn’t involved?”

 

“I don’t think he is,” Buffy answered, shaking her head. “He’s a real piece of work, but he… no, he’s not involved.”

 

“He’s a broken man who is desperately trying to hold on to what power he has and attempting to project that he has even more. At least that is my impression.” Giles added.

 

“That’s rather hard to believe,” his mother countered.

 

“He’s still a bastard,” Giles assured her and Buffy nodded her head in agreement.

 

Ellie sat quietly thinking in her chair when a servant came in and told them dinner was served. They adjourned to the dining room where Giles’ mother took the seat at the head of the table with Buffy and Giles sitting to either side of her.

 

“I’m going to analyze the spell that is still surrounding the house tonight and then break it. I’m not comfortable. If it’s a spell affecting our phone lines and other forms of electronic communication, whoever it is could very well be spying on us.”

 

Buffy turned to Giles and asked incredulously, “You have email?”

 

“Well… yes.”

 

“We could’ve been emailing? Or using an instant messaging service to talk everyday if we wanted?”

 

“I liked hearing your voice… and reading your handwritten letters,” he replied sheepishly. “It was… more personal.”

 

She looked at him fondly from across the table before turning to his mother. “Ellie, do all spells leave something like a fingerprint behind? Something you can identify the caster by?”

 

“Oh, like her, Rupert!” Ellie grinned. “Yes, my dear, all spells do. But if I don’t know the caster, it’s not going to help. We don’t have a magickal database of caster’s signatures by which to compare.”

 

Looking deep in thought, Buffy continued her line of questioning, “What if you were to run into the guilty sorcerer or witch later, would you be able to identify them from the signature you detected earlier?”

 

“Oh, I am sure I would, though it would depend on whether they have casted recently,” she answered.

 

The look on Buffy’s face was grim. “Well, when we close in on the culprit, we can only hope that they have.”

 

Ellie nodded her agreement, grabbing Buffy’s hand and giving it a light squeeze. “I am slightly surprised you didn’t pick up on the spell, Rupert,” she stated, still baffled by his inability to detect the invasive magicks.

 

“I still don’t feel it, Mum, but then, having lived here, I could be affected by it. Buffy?”

 

“No. I could tell when you both were reading me, but I don’t feel anything wonky in the house. Normally that sort of thing makes my skin itch.”

 

“Well, it’s making _my_ skin itch,” Ellie stated firmly. “I’ll need some assistance after dinner, if you two are amenable.”

 

Giles looked at Buffy who nodded. “Of course.”

 

—————

 

Watcher and Slayer searched the kitchen for the herbs and tools needed for the spell while Ellie gathered candles and the special ingredients from her room before setting up a protective circle in the drawing room.

 

As Buffy looked for the mortar and pestle on the shelves in the pantry, Giles came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders before brushing the side her neck with his lips. “I’m sorry. This isn’t exactly the evening we had planned.”

 

She smiled and pulled his hands down in front of her and relaxed back into him. “No, but this is good in a different way. We’re getting closer to knowing who kept us apart and, after a rocky start, your mum has been really wonderful.”

 

“She never fails to make me feel like I am twelve years old,” he murmured next to her ear.

 

“You’re her baby and she loves you. But I think maybe you feel more like a college student who brought his girlfriend home for the weekend thinking his parents were away.”

 

He kissed her cheek. “Better analogy. Do you know what’s even better?” he asked, hugging her to him.

 

Turning in his arms to face him, Buffy peered into his eyes. “What?”

 

“Finally having a moment to ourselves. I’ve been longing to touch you, to kiss you.”

 

“Then kiss me. You know you do an awful lot of talk-“

 

Following her directive, Giles covered her mouth with his, cutting her off in mid-admonishment and Buffy gladly wrapped her arms around him and responded in kind. As the passion between them rose, he ran his left hand down her back and squeezed her bottom, drawing her closer and bringing their lower bodies in contact with one another. Buffy sighed into his mouth she explored his chest and sides, untucking his shirt to feel his skin beneath her hands as they made out in the dim light of the kitchen pantry.

 

“I’ve changed my mind,” Giles uttered between kisses as he moved to nibble and kiss at her neck.

 

“About what?” Buffy managed after he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

 

“I think we are ready now,” he answered, pulling himself away from her neck and searching her eyes.

 

“Oh good,” Buffy answered breathlessly. “Because I really didn’t want to wait anymore.”

 

His eyes softened and he cupped her cheek. “Stay with me tonight?”

 

“What about your mum?”

 

“Her rooms are in a different part of the house.”

 

“Convenient.”

 

“Very,” he murmured as his thumb traced her cheekbone.

 

She searched his eyes. “I want to.”

 

Leaning down, Giles placed a delicate kiss on her lips. “I want you,” he whispered breathily against her ear, feeling her body shudder slightly against his. “So very much.”

 

“Yes,” Buffy whispered as she tried to regulate her breathing. “We… we should get back. Your mother will wonder what happened to us.”

 

Giles gave her a satisfied little smirk. “You’re right, of course,” he agreed, reaching up behind her and grabbing the mortal and pestle.

 

—————

 

The couple met Ellie back in the drawing room with their supplies. Buffy handed her the basket of ingredients they’d gathered for her while Giles set the marble mortar and pestle down on the desk.

 

“Took you long enough. Did you find everything?” the older woman asked.

 

“The cook keeps a fine larder, Mum,” Giles answered somewhat guiltily, shooting a knowing look Buffy’s way.

 

She blushed and glanced down at the desk before regaining her composure and asking, “What do you need us to do, Ellie?”

 

“I don’t really need either of you for the actual spell,” she answered. “However, once I am finished, Rupert, I want you to try phoning your cousin in Sunnydale.”

 

As soon as she had everything set up, Ellie sat within her protective circle and invoked the Greek goddess Hestia to cleanse their home of the foreign magick. When the task was finished, she stood up and turned towards her son and his companion, who sat together on one of the sofas.

 

“Did you get rid of the spell?” Buffy asked.

 

“Yes, it is gone, however I don’t recognize the magickal signature. It is disappointing.”

 

“Is there anything distinct about it?” Giles questioned, hoping for something to go on.

 

“Nothing really remarkable,” Ellie replied, taking a seat in the chair next to the couch. “The magick is rudimentary, something learnt rather than inherent. It was cloaked nicely, though.”

 

“A Watcher then,” he stated with firmness.

 

“Definitely,” she agreed. “I am certain I could ferret them out if we were in the same room.”

 

That bit of information confused Buffy and she asked, “How do you know the magick was cast by a Watcher? I mean, we suspect someone in the Council, but still, if it was learned, then the butler could have done it… as cliché as that sounds.”

 

“Yes, magick can be learnt,” Ellie began. “It’s definitely easier for someone who is born with it, but with enough training, anyone can perform basic spells.”

 

“The majority of Watchers do not possess an inherent ability for magick, so we are taught the basics at the Academy,” Giles continued. “However, most forget how not long after they finish school, as it is usually not a skill that is needed unless they are called to the side of a Slayer. Douglas had no such access. He grew up here, went to school in the village, and entered service as soon as he could.”

 

“Okay. I see your point,” Buffy conceded before asking, “Were you were born with magick, Giles or did Ellie teach you?”

 

“Both.”

 

She stood up and started to pace. “And the Council kept your magick bound when you were called to be my Watcher?”

 

“They left me with enough to do basic spells just like any Watcher who had to learn magick, and no more.”

 

“They didn’t think that maybe having access to your personal magick would help me more?”

 

Giles rose to address her concerns. “I think it was a means of ensuring I didn’t go rogue considering I have some influence over a Slayer, Buffy. Imagine the horrible implications.”

 

“I’d rather imagine all the good we could’ve done with it. All the ways we could’ve stopped things before they became so bad, like the Mayor and Adam, not to mention finding out that Dawn was the Key and maybe finding a way to stop Glory before her whole attempt to bleed my sister so she could open a portal to hell.” Her anger flashed in her eyes and her voice was tinged with indignation.

 

He shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. The shame of his past echoed in his body language. “The things I had done in my youth, Buffy… they were-“

 

“Giles, I get it, okay, but you’re a good guy and you settled down. You were… _are_ … truly sorry for those things-“

 

Ellie stood and walked over to her son. “Rupert, I think it best if we try to contact your father and Daniel now,” she interrupted, knowing that the conversation, were it to go any further, was pointless and would only lead to more anger and frustration.

 

Buffy huffed and walked over to the window. It was dark and the rain came down in sheets and she couldn’t see past the width of the drive.

 

“Yes, you are right, Mum. Let’s phone Dad first,” Giles answered as he watched Buffy wrap her arms around herself, regretting the fact that he was unable to offer her comfort.

 

“If you have a second line, I can call Daniel,” Buffy said keeping her eyes fixated on the storm outside. “It’s getting late and it’s been a long day.”

 

“Good idea,” Ellie replied, standing up and walking over to the upset Slayer. She put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a supportive smile before gently imparting some wisdom. “We can’t change the past, Buffy, but we can always influence the future.”

 

Upon adjourning to the study to make the phone call, Giles was unable to contact of his father on his mobile in Haiti, or at his room in the hotel. He left messages, encouraging his dad to return his call as soon as possible, no matter what the time was in England.

 

Buffy had more luck. Daniel answered on the third ring and they spoke for several minutes while she asked after Faith, Willow, and Tara. Declining to answer any questions regarding the situation, Buffy deflected and said they were still in investigation mode before saying goodbye.

 

When she hung up, she looked to Ellie and Giles and shrugged. “Everything is fine in Sunnydale. Daniel sends his love.”

 

“Good,” Giles said, “The spell has been lifted, communications are back to normal. I am sure we’ll hear from Dad soon. Now I think it is time we call it a night.”

 

Almost on cue, Buffy yawned. She was tired.

 

“Buffy, do you think you can you find your way to your room on your own?” Ellie asked. “I would like to speak with my son alone.”

 

“Um, yeah, I’ve got the way figured out now,” she responded, tamping down her disappointment. Walking over to where Giles and his mother stood, Buffy gave her Watcher a hug and whispered in his ear, “See you soon.”  Giles gave her an apologetic look and she squeezed his hand before letting go. Turning to his mother, she took her hands in hers and said, “I missed you, Ellie, thank you for your help.”

 

“My pleasure. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to see you again, dear. Will you join me for breakfast at nine?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“Sleep well, Buffy.”

 

“Thank you.”

 


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

 

 

While he was unhappy to see Buffy go, Giles appreciatively watched her retreating form before schooling himself and turning to his mother. “What did you want to talk about?”

 

“Sit down, Rupert,” she invited as she took a seat in one of the leather chairs.

 

Giles sat down in the companion chair, crossed one leg over the other, and lay his right arm along the armrest. “Why do I have the feeling I am about to be lectured?”

 

“I just want to talk,” his mother explained. “You look good.”

 

“I feel good. The running and the riding keep me fit.”

 

“I’m sorry about earlier… for accusing you of doing magicks. Our home felt… foreign and invaded. I should’ve checked the signature, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. Neither you nor Douglas were here when I arrived and the staff weren’t able to tell me anything other than you had a visitor,” Ellie apologized with a tight smile. “And then when I saw Buffy, my mind went to places it shouldn’t have.”

 

Giles relaxed in his seat. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. Had I known-“

 

“I should have given you notice, but I wanted to surprise you.”

 

“It was… quite the surprise,” he agreed, running his left hand through his hair.

 

“For all of us. You know you can reach me at Amelia’s.”

 

“She’d only hang up on me. That woman will take that grudge to the grave.”

 

“I don’t think she’ll never forgive you,” Ellie agreed.

 

“I wasn’t the one who planned the trip, nor was I the one who caused us to miss the ferry.”

 

“I know that. Amelia just… won’t see it any other way, especially after your little rebellion a couple years later. Clearly you were the bad influence.”

 

“She’s not rational. It’s been thirty years! I accompanied Michael to Amsterdam so he could relax and have a bit of fun. He was ready to commit matricide at her constant hovering!”

 

“It was just the last straw, Rupert. You both were always getting into mischief together growing up. It’s a very old argument and Michael has pleaded your case a thousand times to no avail, but I am sure if you needed to speak with me, she’d have passed the phone.”

 

“The better part of valor, Mum.”

 

“Speaking of… I’m going to risk the argument,” Ellie began. “You’ve decided to resume your position as Buffy’s Watcher.”

 

“I have,” Giles confirmed as he leaned back in his seat and uncrossed his legs, stretching the left one out before him.

 

Ellie took a deep breath. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

 

“I know,” he said quietly.

 

“I never wanted this life for you.”

 

“I know that too. You were the only one who didn’t judge me or punish me when I came back from London, broken, strung out, and looking for acceptance and forgiveness; and you were the only person to question my decision to rejoin the Council.”

 

“And I question it again, Rupert. They revived you in the ambulance. I can’t bear to think of it.”

 

“Then don’t,” he replied gently. “I know it’s not the life you would’ve chosen for me and it certainly wasn’t the life I was looking for when I was younger, but I wouldn’t change the decision I made back then and I certainly won’t change my mind now.”

 

“I respected your choice then, mainly because I felt that you never would have been Chosen after fleeing the Council. Obviously I was wrong.” She looked at him directly, her eyes boring into his. “Is this _really_ what you want, Rupert?”

 

“Yes, it is,” he answered without hesitation. “I know that it is hard to accept after everything, Mum, but Buffy… she… she’s alive and _I_ am her Watcher. How can I walk away?”

 

“Daniel is there. He can continue his role.”

 

“She cannot accept him as her Watcher for the same reason she couldn’t accept Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. I can’t really explain it, but Buffy and I share a bond. I will not walk away from my duty to her, nor do I want to. It feels right… being with her.”

 

Her eyes scrutinized him as she interpreted his words. Finally deciding on a response, she sighed as she voiced her frustration, “I suppose, I will never understand you. You are just like your father in your devotion.”

 

“You bicker and criticize him constantly. Sometimes I wonder why you married him at all,” Giles muttered, looking down at his hands.

 

“I was young and he was dashing… still is, the old goat,” Ellie answered with a little smile. Despite their differing views, she adored Frederick. Turning towards her son, she softened her manner. “I am worried for you, Rupert.” She let her statement hang in the air for a moment before continuing, “And for her.”

 

“I am sure we can handle any threat posed to us.”

 

“You’ll no doubt fight to the last proving it,” his mother said sadly, shifting in her seat. “But you and Buffy have been through quite the trauma these past few years, both physically and emotionally. I watched her as she tended to you and watched over you in hospital, and even though I haven’t been here this past year, I know the depth to which you grieved for her.”

 

Knowing his mother hadn’t quite gotten to her point yet, Giles remained quiet and crossed his legs, trying to rub away the dull ache in his left thigh as it protested the earlier workout and the sudden change in the weather.

 

“I know how much you love her and it’s fairly obvious she’s in love you as well.”

 

“Mum, I’m not sure this is a conversation we should be having,” Giles stated as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

 

She ignored him and pressed on. “A Watcher needs his partiality,” his mother counseled. “Do you even have that anymore?”

 

“You sound like Quentin,” he muttered as he stood up and walked over to the buffet table with the decanter on it.

 

“He has a point.”

 

“Port?”

 

“No thank you.”

 

He poured himself a glass of the fortified wine and sat back down in his chair, trying to ignore his aching leg while he stared out the window, the rain pelting against the glass.

 

“We belong together,” he finally said, placing his glass down on the coffee table. “Watcher and Slayer.”

 

“And when one of you has to make the hard call?”

 

He rose suddenly, agitated at his mother’s line of questioning. “What do you think we were doing before I was shot? Playing at soldiers?” he asked, pacing back and forth the length of the coffee table. “Christ, Mum, I killed a man with my bare hands because he shared his mortal body with an immortal hell goddess who was intent on destroying the world!”

 

Ellie blanched and Giles winced at his outburst. 

 

“I-I didn’t know,” she said, her voice small and frail.

 

He flopped back down in his chair, placing his head in his hands, suddenly exhausted and regretting his words. “I’m sorry. You weren’t meant to. It just came out.”

 

Ellie sat in shock before finally asking, “Does Buffy know?”

 

“Yes,” he answered, eyeing his full glass of port, no longer interested in drinking it.

 

“Rupert, it’s different now. Your feelings-”

 

“I loved her then!” he interjected, his voice raised, reacting to her needling. He shook his head, his eyes finally finding his mother’s, and stated calmly, “I loved her then.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Ellie rose from her chair and walked over to the buffet. “I think I will have a glass of port.”

 

“I understand your concern, Mum, and I do appreciate it,” Giles stated sincerely, as he stood to follow her. “However Buffy and I are both adults. Whatever happens or doesn’t happen between us is our decision to make.”

 

Ellie turned to address him after pouring a drink, her eyes finding his. “I only want to see you both happy. And alive.”

 

“I know.”

 

Taking her seat again, she said, “She is a lovely young woman.”

 

“She is,” he agreed, knowing his mother had just given him her approval.

 

Silence lingered a few moments between them before Ellie changed the subject. “I saw Michael and Christopher’s eldest at Amelia’s.”

 

“How is Meg?”

 

“She’s doing really well. She’ll be starting Oxford at the new term.”

 

“Really?” Giles shook his head in disbelief. “Where does the time go?”

 

“Wasted on the young, squandered by the middle aged, and regretted by the old.”

 

“Here, here,” he saluted, reaching for his glass and raising it. “They must all be so proud.”

 

“Indeed. She’s her grandmother’s pride, that’s for sure,” she replied with a hint of pride of her own. She’d always been very involved in her extended family’s lives.

 

“Is this a subtle way of telling me to get on with it?” he asked in amusement.

 

“No,” Ellie sighed. “Having a son who is a Watcher is much like having one who is a monk. I gave up hope long ago.”

 

“I’m sorry, Mum.”

 

“Make no mistake, I _am_ proud of you, Rupert, never think otherwise.” She gave him a tired smile. “It’s been a long day. You will let me know if your father rings in the middle of the night?”

 

He stood up and walked over to his mother, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Of course. I’m glad you are home.”

 

“Before we go, I will ask that you and Buffy both consider retirement. With a second, younger, yet experienced Slayer guarding the Hellmouth, I don’t see why the burden should continue to fall on your and Buffy’s shoulders.” She stood and placed a warm hand to his cheek and looked on him fondly. “Goodnight, Rupert.”

 

“Goodnight, Mum,” Giles returned, giving her an indulgent smile before leaning down to kiss her cheek. He turned off the lights and took the port glasses to the kitchen.

 

As he strode through the house on his way to his apartments, Giles ignored the slight limp in his gait. Upon reaching Buffy’s room he stopped to knock on the door before deciding against it, not wanting to wake her. The day had been full of ups and downs, and she had been in rather a foul mood after learning about how the Council had bound his magick. She had been right, of course, he could have provided her with another line of defense had he been able to access the full potential of his magick. Perhaps he actually was the proverbial cock-up everyone assumed him to be when he’d returned to the Council and now she knew it too, despite her placing blame on the Council. After all, it had been his actions that had placed him in that predicament in the first place.

 

Sighing, Giles dropped his hand and made his way down the hall to his room. Part of him hoped to find Buffy there waiting up for him, but he knew she wouldn’t be and he made his way to his bedroom and flopped down on his bed, alone, agitated, and exhausted.

 

He toed off his shoes and socks and let them drop at the base of the bed before sitting up and unbuttoning his shirt, noticing the ugly scars in the mirror. With a shake of his head, he walked back into his living room where he found the bottle of scotch and poured a half finger into a glass. Perhaps he should consider retirement. Maybe he could convince Buffy to retire too.

 

He took his drink back into his bedroom where he found the bottle of ibuprofen and took two tablets for the pain in his leg, chasing them down with the alcohol. Settling himself back down on his bed, he picked up the leather bound journal sitting on the side table, intending to write in it, but the words refused to come and he leafed through the pages of the diary. His eyes fell on the words _She’s gone…_

 

—————

 

_“I am so sorry, son,” Frederick Giles said regretfully, hating to deliver such horrible news over the phone, cursing his Council assignment._

 

_Giles couldn’t form any words and placed the phone back down into its cradle, without saying goodbye. Had he not been sitting down, his legs would have given way beneath him. The Council was wrong! The report was wrong! It just couldn’t be. She was the brightest, most talented, most gifted Slayer to come along in… half a millennium at least. He might be biased, but he knew his Council history._

 

_Dropping his face into his hands he waited for the tears to come, the lump in his throat almost too painful to bear, but he couldn’t cry. Picking up the phone again, he dialed Buffy’s house in Sunnydale, needing confirmation, to hear the circumstances from one of his own, to take comfort and commiserate with his little family. When he got no answer, he tried Willow and Tara at the dorms, then Xander’s apartment, and finally the Magic Box with no success._

 

_Grabbing the cane, he pushed himself up from the chair and headed to the training room, hopping on the treadmill when he got there. He felt the need to run and yet he was still having issues with the walking part, despite what he had told Buffy the week before. It was true, he was off the crutches, but he was far from ready to walk unassisted._

 

_Still, he started to walk on the treadmill, increasing the speed until he was running, his gait stable through sheer determination. The pain shooting through his leg was intense, but he kept going, needing to feel it, needing the pain to break through the disbelief, the anger, and the utter despair. His very soul was desperate for the tears to come, the sobs._

 

_He hadn’t been there to prepare her, to protect her. It was his job, his very purpose. He increased the speed again, gritting his teeth as he kept pace. Finally the tempo was too much and he lost his balance and, as he began to fall, strong arms grabbed him around the waist, attempting to pull him off the treadmill to safety._

 

_However, Giles had been caught by surprise and flailed about, causing him to fall to the ground in a heap on top of his rescuer. He yelled out in pain, grabbing his leg, the pain barely tolerable. Finally the tears started to flow._

 

_“What the hell do you think you are doing, Rupert?” a voice screamed at him, penetrating the fog of physical pain, emotional anguish, and the sound of the treadmill whirring at high speed._

 

_Giles twisted his body to face the man sitting on the ground with him and wrapped his arms around him, holding on for all that he was worth as the sobs wracked through his body._

 

_“Rupert?” The tone softened as the arms that had let him go after the fall, gently pulled him closer, holding him tight. “What’s happened?”_

 

_He tried to get himself under control for the next several minutes. As soon as an emotional wave ebbed, another one flowed. “She’s gone,” he finally managed. “I… I wasn’t there for her… she was my life… now she’s gone.”_

 

_The two men sat on the floor, Giles holding steadfastly on to the other man as he cried himself out, the agony in his leg matching the one in his heart. When the storm subsided, he let go of his companion and fell back on the mats in exhaustion, shutting his eyes against the harsh lighting and struggling to get his breathing under control. A few minutes later the noise from the treadmill stopped and a cold compress was pressed against his thigh._

 

_“Can you sit up?”_

 

_“Don’t want to.”_

 

_“You need to take these meds to ease the pain and get the swelling down.”_

 

_“No,” Giles answered with gritted teeth._

 

_“Rupert, don’t torture yourself. You certainly don’t want to do any further damage if you want to walk and run normally again.” Giles didn’t answer. “Please, take the tablets.”_

 

_He opened an eye, wincing at the brightness, and raised himself up on his elbows. “What’s that one?” he asked pointing at a small yellow pill he didn’t recognize._

 

_“Muscle relaxant, to keep the quad from seizing up after your little stunt there.”_

 

_Giving up on his protests, Giles sat up and took the pills and the bottle of water from his physical therapist. He’d forgotten they’d had an appointment that afternoon. “Thank you.”_

 

_“Now lie back so I can assess the leg and stretch the rest of you out.” Giles did as he was told, facing a new round of torture under his therapist’s hands. Once the meds kicked in, the session was brought to a halt. The muscle relaxant and the heavy pain killers combined with his emotional exhaustion had him on the verge of passing out._


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 

 

Buffy rolled over in the big bed and stretched. It was still dark in the room, but something felt off, as though it should be light and she snuck a glimpse at her alarm before grimacing and bouncing out of bed. Her internal clock had finally adjusted to British time and she realized that she only had thirty minutes to shower and get ready before meeting Ellie and Giles for breakfast. On her way to the bathroom, she pulled back the heavy drapes, allowing the warm summer rays to burst through the window and illuminate the room.

 

Once in the shower, Buffy lathered her hair and wondered what happened between Giles and his mother the previous evening. She had been fairly certain he would come to her after they finished talking, but he hadn’t and she couldn’t help but feel a little hurt at the perceived rejection. Shaking her head, she mentally chiding herself for such thoughts. He loved her, and with every gesture, in every look, and with every touch, large or small, she felt it, and she quickened her routine in order to make it to breakfast to see him again and make sure he was okay.

 

When she strode into the conservatory for breakfast, she found Giles and Ellie already sitting down, enjoying a cup of tea.

 

Ellie smiled brightly when she walked in the room and Giles rose from his seat and walked around to pull her chair out for her. Buffy gave him a questioning glance and he had the grace too look apologetic.

 

“Good morning, Buffy,” he greeted as she sat down in the chair.

 

“Good morning,” she responded warmly. “I’m sorry I’m running a little late this morning. I forgot to set the alarm.”

 

“I should’ve knocked on your door before coming down,” Giles apologized.

 

“No matter, we’ve only just sat down,” Ellie responded cheerfully. “Are you like most of your compatriots, preferring coffee in the morning?”

 

Noticing the one pot, Buffy replied, “Tea is fine, thanks. I promise not to throw it in the nearest harbor.”

 

“Very well, a cup or two is allowed then,” Ellie laughed as she started to pour. “Since I am back in country, I asked the cook to serve a full English. My sister eats what can only be described as tree bark and grain hulls for breakfast, and dinners were something equally horrifying and difficult to digest, I’m afraid. I am simply protein starved.”

 

“I’m totally on board with the whole big breakfast thing,” Buffy agreed. “I’m starving.”

 

They enjoyed light conversation during their breakfast before talk turned to the more pressing matters at hand after the plates were cleared and another cup of tea poured.

 

“Rupert, I take it your father didn’t phone last night?” his mother asked, her lips tightening into a frown.

 

Giles shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not,” he responded, concern written on his face.

 

“Please try again later,” Ellie requested, trying not to let her husband’s lack of communication concern her.

 

“Of course.”

 

“And if you can’t get ahold of him, I’ll call Travers. He won’t like it, but he knows where his duty lies,” Buffy offered. “I am sure he has other lines of communications available to him that we don’t.”

 

“Good thinking,” Giles complimented with a soft smile.

 

“Yes, I am sure he does,” Ellie agreed. “Also, Rupert, do you happen to know where Douglas has gone? We need to know what he knows. He’ll remember who the Watchers were who visited your father.”

 

“He left a note that he would be staying at The White Hart for a week before finding something more permanent.”

 

“We already questioned him, but he wasn’t budging.” Buffy added.

 

“Perhaps not,” Ellie responded. “But I may be more… persuasive.”

 

“If you are going to see him, perhaps Buffy and I should accompany you.”

 

“Whatever for?” she asked indignantly. “I’ve known the man since before you were born, Rupert. He is perfectly reasonable.”

 

Giles caught the incredulous look on Buffy’s face and shook his head. “Perhaps not for the last year, Mum,” he entreated. “Please let us accompany you.”

 

“I will not!” Ellie insisted. “He’ll surely clam up and won’t say anything if he sees the likes of you two about! After all, you are the ones who sacked him.”

 

“Mum-“

 

“Rupert, honestly, I might be old, but I am a magick user and I can certainly handle myself,” she assured him and patted his forearm before standing up and looking over her son and his Slayer. “You keep trying to get ahold of your father and enjoy your day with Buffy. I am sure the pair of you still have a lot to talk about. I will see you later this afternoon and evening.”

 

After Ellie left the room, Buffy let out a breath and said, “Well, I sense a lot of subtext in that last exchange. What went on with you and your mum last night?”

 

“She asked after us,” Giles answered as he pushed his chair back to get comfortable. “About our relationship.”

 

“What did you say?”

 

“As you and I haven’t discussed what we want to say, I felt it wise to evade as best I could, but she is like a hound on hare and wouldn’t let it go. She knows how we feel about each other and has her concerns.”

 

“Oh great, so now I get to face the displeasure of the mama lion?” Buffy asked with sigh as she got up and walked around the table to sit on his lap. “I fight demons and toss out ridiculous puns on a regular basis and yet your mother intimidates me. I’ve seen her reduce the gruffest of nurses to a cowering mess.”

 

Giles laughed and circled her waist with his arms. “No, she’s rather fond of you. She only wants what’s best for both of us.”

 

Buffy smiled at him and nuzzled her nose against his. “What’s best for me is you.”

 

“Kiss me good morning,” he breathed.

 

She leaned in and softly touched her lips to his and he responded in kind as their hands started to roam and the kisses grew bolder and and more intense. “I thought you would stop by my room last night,” she managed between kisses.

 

“I did, but it was late and I thought you might be asleep,” Giles responded as he dragged his lips along her jawline.

 

Arching into him and baring her neck, she breathed, “Knock anyway next time.”

 

He groaned his response and took the invitation to nibble and suck at her neck. “Buffy, darling,” he murmured, trying to get ahold of himself as he nuzzled his forehead against her cheek.

 

“Mmm?”

 

“Could we take this somewhere more private? I think the staff want to clean up.”

 

Buffy giggled. “Can I tell you how surreal that is?”

 

“Which? Having staff or making love with me?” he teased, lightly scraping his teeth over her collarbone.

 

Shuddering beneath his touch, Buffy gasped, “Both, definitely both.” Her hands gripped his shirt tightly. “God, Giles, keep doing that and we’re going to put on a show.” She felt his smile against her skin, his breath warm and moist, and it drove her crazy.

 

He slipped his left arm under her legs and picked her up as he stood. Buffy circled her arms around his neck and he carried her a few paces before their eyes met and she could read the depth of feeling within his striking green irises.

 

“Take me to your room,” she whispered.

 

A small smile played at the corners of his mouth and he carefully set her down. Lacing his fingers with hers, he led her out of the conservatory towards his apartments.

 

When they arrived at his apartments, Giles shut the door behind him and shoved his hands in his pockets before leaning against it and giving Buffy an appreciative smile. She stood in the middle of his living room ignoring the stately decor around her, her eyes only taking in the sight of him. The late morning sun stole through the open windows as a soft breeze billowed through the gauze curtains, bathing the room in an ethereal light.

 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Buffy marveled as she returned his smile.

 

“Oh it’s definitely happening,” he replied half an octave lower than normal as he pushed himself from the door. In an instant he stood before her his pleading eyes searching hers. “If you’ll have me.”

 

Buffy circled her arms around his neck and drew his head down towards hers. “Oh, I am about to have all of you, Rupert Giles,” she whispered saucily against his lips, before taking them in a long, erotic kiss.

 

When it ended, he took one of her hands in his and brought it to his lips, placing a sensual kiss on the inside of her wrist before tucking her arm into his and leading her into his bedroom. They stood before each other at the foot of the bed and Giles tenderly pushed back a lock of hair as he looked upon her with adoration.

 

Buffy bit her lip in part due to anticipation and the rest out of nervousness.

 

“Everything all right?” he asked, tilting his head to one side.

 

“Yeah, it’s just… don’t laugh.”

 

He kissed her forehead. “I promise.”

 

She looked away as a pretty little flush brushed over her cheeks. “I’ve only ever done it in the dark.”

 

The smile crept to his lips as he touched her chin and guided her to look at him once more. As he stifled the urge to laugh, Buffy watched the comical reaction on his face and started to giggle. With her laughing, Giles let go and joined her in her merriment.

 

When she finally got ahold of herself, she playfully slapped his shoulder. “Hey, you promised.”

 

Straightening up, he took a deep breath to steady himself, but the mirth still played in his eyes. “I did. And I failed. I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay. It’s just silly.”

 

He sat her down on the bed before sitting beside her and taking her hand in his. “It’s not silly. I must admit to some trepidation on my part. My scars-“

 

“Don’t. They just took me by surprise the other day and reminded me of how close I came to losing you,” Buffy interrupted, seeking to calm any fears on his part. “God, if I had just done my job, you wouldn’t have had to do it, and you wouldn’t have gotten shot.”

 

“Please don’t take that guilt on, Buffy. That burden is mine to carry. You needed to save Dawn. And taking a life… a-a human one… no one could ask that of you.”

 

“But because I couldn’t do it, you did.”

 

“I made that choice. Had Ben survived his injuries, Glory would have eventually resurfaced and exacted her particular brand of crazed vengeance. You couldn’t beat her. You could only delay her and one day she would’ve come back and gotten the best of you. I couldn’t take that chance. I couldn’t…” Giles shook his head.

 

Leaning in, Buffy placed her head on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

 

He held her to him and rested his head on top of hers. “It’s not something I am proud of having done, but I know it was the right thing to do and, looking back on everything, I would make that decision again.”

 

Circling her arms around him, Buffy hugged him tightly to her, wanting to remove all the hurt that she knew he felt, and Giles relaxed into her embrace as he accepted her comfort.

 

After several quiet moments she raised her head and declared, “You are my hero.”

 

Her warm breath against his neck caused him to shiver and he raised his hand to cup her cheek and brought her lips to his. “You have always been mine,” he whispered, before his mouth took hers.

 

The kiss started out slow and chaste, but as the passion between them rose, the intensity and urgency they'd found earlier roared back to life. They turned their bodies towards the other and he threaded his left hand through her hair to the nape of her neck to draw her closer as his tongue finally found hers.

 

Buffy's hands instinctually found his chest, feeling his strength beneath her palms as she explored the contours of his body beneath his shirt, but it wasn't enough. The desperate yearning of the last two years and the intense feelings of love and passion he'd stirred within her over the last few days had stoked a great hunger within her. She trailed her fingers to the hem of his shirt and lifted it up, only breaking the kiss to divest him of the offending article. Pushing him down onto the bed, she leaned over him and took a moment to take in his form. Gone was the initial shock of seeing the bullet scars and the one from the lance in his side and she immediately repressed the horrific memories associated with them. He was alive and breathing beneath her, his heated body reacting to her touch.

 

Giles raised his head at her hesitation, watching her lightly trace her fingers over his marred skin, her face serene and loving before she bent down to kiss the scars, as if to heal the pain and heartache of the last two years. His breath hitched in his throat and she looked up, her eyes meeting his, profound in their recognition of what was happening between them.

 

"This is forever, Giles," she whispered, her voice serious. "Us."

 

His eyes softened, the physical desire yielding to his heart. "Forever," he agreed as he caressed her cheek with his fingertips. "As if it could ever be otherwise."

 

"Better not," she said playfully as she straddled his hips, lacing her fingers with his before pinning his hands down to the bed above his head. "I'm not sure you'd like the consequences."

 

"A Slayer scorned?" he asked in amusement. "No. Not at all."

 

"Smart man." She leaned down and lightly nipped at his throat before trailing her lips up and over his jawline, teasing him with small open mouthed kisses as her tongue playfully licked at his lips and teeth.

 

He lifted himself to follow her as she pushed herself upright and let go of his hands. He immediately placed them on her hips, pulling her down until her heat was flush against his highly aroused and rather insistent erection.

 

"I want you."

 

“I know," Buffy answered with a wide, wicked grin as she ground against him.

 

His hands worked their way beneath her shirt and he traced his fingers just above the waistband of her jeans. "This works better without so many barriers in the way," he murmured, the corner of his mouth upturned in a mischievous smile.

 

She gasped at his sensuous touch. "Best we do something about that."

 

"Indeed."

 

Giles sat up and pulled her shirt off, cupping her breasts in his hands, his thumbs brushing against her lace covered nipples. The sensation caused Buffy to gasp and she arched into his hands, seeking more.

 

"So sensitive," he whispered approvingly as he repeated the motion before his hands drifted around to her back and unhooked her bra.

 

She shrugged it off and watched as Giles admired her form. He swallowed hungrily and looked back up at her, placing his hands back on her hips and rolled them until he was on top. Leaning over her, he placed open mouth kisses over the rise of her breasts, his tongue tracing the outline of her left areole before laving and suckling the pebbled nipple which stood out in high relief, seemingly begging for his attention.

 

Buffy shuddered at the sensation, his teeth erotically scraping the highly sensitive bud before he pulled way and shifted his attention to the other breast. She moaned and writhed beneath his touch as she undulated against him, her body seeking his, and he placed his left hand on her hip to hold her steady while he continued to worship her breasts, neck, and collarbone.

 

"Giles..." she pleaded, running her hands through his hair.

 

He ran his hand over her mound and between her legs. She thrust into the heel of his palm searching for the sweet friction that would alleviate the burn he stoked within her. She was so wet and so ready for his touch, but the layers of cotton and denim between his hand and her relief seemed almost insurmountable.

 

"Still too many clothes," Buffy growled in frustration.

 

Giles kissed the valley between her breasts. "Patience, my love," he counseled, his lust filled eyes meeting hers as he trailed his tongue to her navel before moving off the bed to unbutton her jeans and remove the last of her clothing. He stared at her nude form in awe, the softness of her curves belying the strength he knew existed beneath. She was his heroine, the one who ruled his heart.

 

She should've felt self conscious, lying naked beneath him in the muted morning sunlight while he surveyed her body, but she knew Giles loved her and she reveled in his gaze as he worshipped her body, making her feel powerful and sexy.

 

He moved towards her, but she lifted her foot and placed it against his stomach. "Nuh-uh," she said with a shake of her head, drawing her foot down so her toes traced over the bulging button fly. She could feel how hard he was as his cock strained against its confines. "Drop 'em."

 

Her playful tone held a note of seriousness and he complied, slowly unbuttoning each button and watching her reaction as he undressed for her. He almost sighed in relief as the pressure abated when he dropped his jeans and shorts. Buffy sat up and bit her lip. He stood before her naked and erect, giving her the opportunity to look upon him as he had done her.

 

Raking her eyes up and down his lean body, Buffy appreciated the sheer strength of him, having focused on his overall fitness after rebuilding the strength in his left leg. His shoulders were broad, the muscles in his arms nicely defined, and, despite the scars, his chest was beautifully sculpted beneath the fine smattering of chest hair. His left leg bore the worst of the scars on his body, but she’d taken no real notice of them, having seen them before. And though he worked out there was evidence of a little middle age spread, which she found endearing. He was absolutely gorgeous and he was hers.

 

“Come here, handsome,” she breathed beneath an appreciative smile, positioning herself against the pillows.

 

Giles bent down and ran his tongue up the inside of her calf to her inner thigh as he crawled onto the bed. Setting himself between her legs, he nuzzled her dewy curls with with his chin, his eyes intense as they met hers before parting her folds with his tongue and tasting her for the first time.

 

Buffy took a ragged breath, unable tear her eyes away from his even if the world came crashing down around them. He held her spellbound as he lavished the most intricate attention on her sex. Her breathing became shallow and erratic, and when she started to grind herself against his face, a devilish smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. When he started to suck on her clit and she threw back her head, letting out a moan in pleasure, her thighs trembling in need. 

 

“God, Giles,” she managed.

 

He lifted his eyes to watch her writhe and grasp at the sheets, her back arching off the bed as he drew her closer to climax. Shifting his weight, he gently probed her wet opening with his middle and index fingers before he entered her and started to thrust, curling his fingers over the sensitive spot within while his mouth worked its magic on her clit.

 

She whimpered and her right hand found its way to his head, placing pressure on it as she silently begged for more. Her left hand found her breast and started kneading the flesh, rolling and pinching the rock hard nipple. She was so close.

 

Redoubling his efforts, Giles changed the angle of his thrusts and provided her with the pressure and friction she demanded of him. Within moments, Buffy let go, her body spasming in the throes of her climax. 

 

“Oh god,” she breathed as she regained her senses, reaching for him.

 

He drew his body up over hers, nestling himself between her legs and she took his mouth in a carnal kiss, cradling his beloved face between her hands and tasting herself on his lips and tongue.

 

“I need you,” Giles whispered huskily, breaking the kiss and diverting his attentions to her neck and collarbone. “I need to feel you surround me.” His voice was gravelly, low, and sexy.

 

“Yes,” Buffy replied, her overstimulated body responding to his touch and tone.

 

His eyes found hers, searching. “Ride me?” he asked barely above whisper.

 

Taking in the seriousness of his request, Buffy rolled them and straddled his thighs. He lay still beneath her and she started to explore his chest and torso with her hands and lips, feeling the tension in his body rise when she found sensitive areas. Placing open mouth kisses down his torso, Buffy followed the trail of hair down to his engorged cock where she lipped at the tip and ran her knuckle of her index finger along the length of the pulsating vein that ran from base to head.

 

Giles twisted the sheets in his hands as he fought for control, her touch doing the most wondrous, yet tortuous things things to him. When she took the head into her hot mouth, he nearly bucked off the bed. 

 

“Christ, Buffy!” he groaned, grasping at her shoulder.

 

“You okay?” she asked, gazing up at him, her face a mix of amusement and concern.

 

Giles stared at the ceiling, working through the Latin declensions in his head, desperately trying to get his breathing under control. “Just… uh… hypersensitive.”

 

“Umm…”

 

Noting her hesitancy, he lowered his chin to look at her. “Come here,” he invited softly and encircled her in his strong arms when she drew herself up to him. “It’s been a long time for me and the fact that it is you here with me makes it a bit… overwhelming,” he explained, holding her tightly to him.

 

Smiling, she raised herself up and peppered gentle kisses over his chin and jawline before finding his lips. The kisses escalated as their tongues became reacquainted, and Giles’ hands wandered down her back and over her rear, squeezing her to him as they undulated against each other.

 

“Waited so long,” she moaned against his lips.

 

“I'm yours.”

 

Buffy repositioned herself over him. “Yes,” she murmured, her voice shaking with need against his heady declaration. 

 

Giles took himself in hand, holding himself steady, watching their union as she slowly and tortuously lowered herself onto him, enveloping his cock in her sweet, wet heat.

 

“Dear god!” he exclaimed, his lust darkened eyes finding hers.

 

Letting out a contented sigh, Buffy murmured, “You feel so good.”

 

They stayed still for several heartbeats, basking in the wondrous feeling of being connected emotionally and physically.

 

Giles reached up and caressed her cheek. “I love you,” he breathed.

 

Buffy’s smile was beatific and she leaned over to kiss him. “And I love you,” she whispered against his lips as she started to move against him in a slow, deliberate manner. He uttered an epithet under his breath and responded by placing his hands on her hips and thrusting against her.

 

Little sighs and moans escalated to coarse, shallow breathing and soft groans of pleasure as the fire grew between them. Hands roamed each other’s body, teasing and wanting, taking and giving, bringing the other closer and closer to completion. Reaching for her, Giles cupped his hand behind her neck and brought her down for a quick, sloppy, wet kiss, unable to keep control over it, his breathing erratic as they rode towards the crest of their passion.

 

She placed her forehead against his, maintaining eye contact with him for several, intense moments as they continued to push each other to new heights. When the first tremors of her orgasm finally rushed through her, Buffy reared up and squeezed her eyes shut, roaring his name in release as her inner walls spasmed around him.

 

Until that moment, Giles had thought there wasn’t anything more magnificent than watching Buffy execute her moves flawlessly and effortlessly in battle, but seeing her in the throes of orgasm, she was magnificent, and hearing his name leave her lips affected him in ways he would never, ever be able to verbally communicate. Within moments, he joined her in oblivion and, when she collapsed onto his chest, he held her tightly to him while they tried to regain their breath and steady their heart rates.

 

When the aftershocks passed and they were able to see and think clearly again, Buffy lifted her head and he leaned in to give her a tender kiss.

 

“How are you?” Giles asked softly.

 

“A bit shaky,” she admitted. “But in a good way.”

 

“I know what you mean,” he replied. “I am certain that if I were to try to stand right now, I wouldn’t make it two steps.”

 

“Well, I didn't have any other plans for the day, so we can just rest here and recover,” she stated, but then added with a teasing smile, “however long it takes.”

 

“I am fairly certain it won't take long," he answered with a wink. "Not when I have such a beautiful woman lying in my arms. Although later this afternoon I will need to attend to some business.”

 

“Calling your dad?”

 

“Yes. I promised Mum.”

 

“Well, it’s still too early to call over there, but… I have some ideas for passing the time,” she stated cheekily before dragging her fingertips down his torso.

 

He took her questing hand in his and brought it to his lips, nipping her index finger. “I do love the way your brain works.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“And I adore you,” Giles murmured before rolling her over and playfully nipping at her neck while making growling noises.

 

Buffy, let out a joyous laugh.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

 

 

Hours passed into the late afternoon and Giles and Buffy continued to lounge lazily in bed holding and caressing the other, laughing and sharing more of their histories with one another than they had ever done before. The world had melted away around them until Buffy noticed the time on the alarm clock next to the bed.

 

Placing a soft kiss against his shoulder, she said, “You should try calling your dad again.”

 

He squeezed her to him and glanced at the time. “Yes, it’s been a couple hours since the last attempt, but you’ll have to let me up.”

 

Letting out a mewl of protest, Buffy rolled off of Giles and he sat up and grabbed his mobile phone from the side table. After dialing the number, he listened through several rings before it clicked over to voicemail.

 

He ended the call and stated with some concern, “Still no answer on his mobile. I’ll try his hotel room again.” He moved to the edge of the bed and sat with his back to her as he attempted to reach his father at the alternative number. That too proved to be a failure as well and he shook his head.

 

Buffy crawled over to him, wrapping her arms around him from behind and placing her chin on his shoulder. “You want me to call Travers?”

 

“No, not yet. If we suspect that someone on his staff has orchestrated this scheme, then we don’t want to alert them to anything we might know. I am going to phone headquarters in Hamilton and see if he’s checked in there.”

 

Apparently he knew that number off the top of his head as well and he effortlessly punched in the numbers. “Ah yes, hello, may I speak to the Watcher on Duty, please?” He was quiet for a moment while he was being transferred. “Hello, yes, this is Rupert Giles, I have been trying to get in touch with my father Sir Frederick Giles for the last several days and have been unable to reach him… yes, I am aware he is in Haiti. Have any of the party checked in at all?”

 

Buffy felt his muscles tense in his shoulders and back as he sat up straighter and she let him go to deal with the situation.

 

“Why? Why would he do that?” Giles asked, his tone incredulous. He stood up and paced the floor of his bedroom, uncaring that he was totally naked while he listened to the duty officer on the other end of the line. “I see. And there has been no word since they checked into the hotel in Port-au-Prince. Have there been talks of extraction?”

 

Buffy watched him from across the room. She could see the concern in his eyes and she moved to get dressed. He walked over to her and stilled her movements by placing his hand on her shoulder. Shaking his head, he leaned down and kissed her forehead before turning his attention back to the call.

 

“When does that protocol kick in? The Commander of the Caribbean Theater of Operations is missing. He hasn’t checked in for days-” He let out a frustrated sigh as he was interrupted. “I understand that! Don’t you think it is highly irregular-” Giles began to pace again. “Yes, of course. Yes, this is the number to reach me. Thank you.”

 

He rang off and placed the phone on the nightstand before sitting back down on the bed and resting his head in his hands. Buffy moved to sit next to him.

 

“Doesn’t sound very promising,” she stated, prompting him to speak.

 

He sighed and lifted his head. “If he’s to go on these types of missions, then his job is to parlay with the government authorities and oversee the mission from a local base of operations, but apparently he’s gone on the mission inland to investigate the demon issue with the expedition team.”

 

“Why would he do that?”

 

“I… don’t know and the Watcher on Duty couldn’t say. Last they heard from the expedition leader is that they expected a communications blackout for several days. She did say that Rebecca Batra will phone later. She is Dad’s second at HQ and is currently in charge whilst he is away.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “Mum is going to be furious.”

 

“Maybe you can hold off saying anything until you hear back from Rebecca.”

 

Just then a knock at the door to his apartments interrupted their conversation. They looked at one another before Giles reached for his jeans and pulled them on. Grabbing a t-shirt out of his armoire and pulling it over his head, Giles closed the door to the bedroom to give Buffy some privacy on his way to see who could be disrupting their afternoon together. 

 

When he opened the door, he found his mother on the other side.

 

“I take it by your disheveled appearance, this is not a good time?” she asked, looking him up and down.

 

Blushing, Giles looked down at his bare feet and dragged his left hand through his unruly hair, “Erm, not at this moment, no. But uh… twenty minutes?”

 

“I’ll meet you in the library. Bring Buffy if she is available.”

 

“O-of course. And, Mum, I did try phoning Dad again,” he said, his look indicating he was still unable to reach his father. He immediately noticed the look of grave concern on his mother’s face before she schooled her features. 

 

“Well, tell me.”

 

Placing his hand on her shoulder in support, he said, “I wish I had better news, but after not being able to reach him on his mobile or at the hotel, I rang headquarters in Hamilton. The Watcher on Duty stated that Dad went undercover with the expedition team and they are not expected to make contact for a few days.”

 

Ellie shook her head, her mouth pursed in a straight line before she stating, “That’s not protocol.”

 

“I know. I am waiting for a call back from Rebecca Batra at the end of the day.”

 

“I see. Well, there is nothing else to be done then, is there?”

 

“Not through proper channels, I’m afraid. Buffy offered to phone Quentin.”

 

“No. Let’s hold off on that until we see what Rebecca has to say. In the meantime, I’ll make some inquiries of my own. I have contacts in Hamilton. Take your time and meet me in the Library at the top of the hour,” she answered before turning to leave down the hall.

 

When he entered his bedroom, he found Buffy sitting up on the edge of the bed covered by a sheet. “I heard.”

 

Giles again ran his left hand through his hair. “I am sorry about the rush.”

 

“I understand. We did lose track of the time… and we sort of did sleep most of the afternoon away.”

 

Giles gave her a naughty smile and sat down beside her, placing his finger on the sheet between the valley of her breasts and pulling it down. “More than just sleep,” he stated as he bent down and kissed the gentle rise of her left breast.

 

“Giles, behave yourself!”

 

“I am behaving,” he stated in a very matter of fact manner, kissing his way back up her chest to her neck.

 

Standing up, she dropped the sheet and chided, “We only have thirty-five minutes. I’m going to use your shower,” before deliberately sauntering off toward the bathroom.

 

Giles fell back onto the bed and let out a frustrated groan. Distracting himself wasn’t going to bring his father back or make the mystery go away, and the plot was seriously starting to thicken. In the interest of saving time, he joined Buffy in the shower, but it wasn’t a romantic affair. They washed each other’s backs and took turns under the shower spray.

 

“I guess she must’ve found something out from Douglas,” Buffy said, applying conditioner to her hair.

 

“She didn’t mention, but she didn’t look happy and that was before I told her the latest news about Dad,” he answered, rising the shampoo from his hair. 

 

“She couldn’t have been too happy to learn that we spent the day in bed. I mean parents-”

 

He kissed her nose in reassurance. “You worry too much. If anything she was embarrassed by that bit of knowledge. Now I am done here. I’ll get dressed while you are finishing up.”

 

As he stepped out, she stopped him and asked, “No sugar for Buffy?”

 

He laughed and leaned over to kiss her lips. “Always.”

 

“Damned straight. Be out in a few.”

 

—————

 

“Is it weird that I am pretty nervous right now? I mean I sort of feel like we got caught doing something we shouldn’t have,” Buffy stated as they left his apartments hand in hand and headed toward the library. “And we’re adults… consenting ones… and she did tell us to enjoy the day.”

 

“Welcome to my world,” Giles stated with resignation. “As much as I love my parents, there was much relief on my part when they moved to Bermuda. The constant hovering was a bit much. Especially from my mother.”

 

“She worries about you.”

 

“She does, but sometimes she forgets I am a grown man and have been on my own for a long, long time.”

 

“Yeah, but you’ll always be her baby… it’s her prerogative to fuss over you, especially when you were all broken.”

 

“Maybe I should get her a puppy to dote on,” he stated more to himself than to her. “Perhaps a cavalier king Charles spaniel.”

 

“Giles?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“You are right, she’s probably more of a cat person.”

 

Buffy affectionately slapped his upper arm. “You goof!”

 

He brought her hand up and kissed the back of it, his demeanor suddenly serious. “Actually, what I really think is that once this is all over, we should find a place of our own.”

 

Buffy stopped in her tracks and looked at him, her eyes wide. “I guess I never really thought… It’s silly, really, but when I told you that we didn’t need to go back to the Hellmouth, I figured we’d share a place, because that’s the easiest thing to do and it makes all kinds of sense, being in this thing together and all, but now…” She shook her head at her babbling, trying to wrap her head around the connotations.

 

“It suddenly has a deeper meaning, sharing our space, our lives,” he finished for her. “Living together. If you want to wait-”

 

“No!” Buffy interrupted. Taking a step forward, she explained, “I don’t want to put us on hold. God, I feel like we’ve been on hold forever. I knew dealing with Glory… I knew that it wasn’t the time, but after you got shot… and then you had to leave…” She stopped, her sylvan eyes capturing his. “Giles, I love you. There is no reason for us to wait any longer.”

 

He smiled down at her, his love for her evident in the way he looked at her and he closed the gap between them. “I love you, Buffy. For always,” he breathed, brushing his lips against hers in a gentle promise.

 

“Always,” she pledged.

 

Looking down at their joined hands, he started, “My darling-“ 

 

“Rupert, are you out there?” his mother called from the library.

 

Giles looked up in the direction of her voice and sighed.

 

Buffy stood on her toes and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Taking his hand, she smiled and said, “Come on, we’re late. Time to face the music.”

 

Upon entering the room, Giles noted his mother’s demeanor. She was all business. Any trace of concern or personal distress was tamped down beneath her public veneer. While he apologized for their tardiness, Buffy sat down on the leather sofa, trying to focus on the reason for their meeting and not dwell on the awkwardness of the situation.

 

“I am sorry for interrupting your afternoon,” Ellie stated, taking a seat in the high wingback chair as though she were holding court. “Just so you know, I’ve made my own inquiries amongst my contacts regarding your father’s mission. Hopefully we’ll get some answers soon. As for the matter with Douglas, I must say I am rather distressed by his demeanor and his responses to my questioning.”

 

Giles walked over to her chair and awkwardly knelt down before her, “Did he hurt you?”

 

“No, no. Heavens no! He didn’t even raise his voice.”

 

“Then what?”

 

“He apologized for his actions, and when I asked him why, he just shrugged and said he _couldn’t_ tell me. He was awfully remorseful. I asked if someone had blackmailed him and he said no. He just sat there fidgeting a lot and looking horrified and uncomfortable. I honestly don’t think he was a willing participant in this mess.”

 

Placing a hand over his mother’s, Giles held his anger at the butler in check and stated softly, “He knows we would’ve protected him, Mum, from anything, yet he betrayed us. He made us believe…” he looked over at Buffy before turning back to his mother. “He made me believe Buffy was dead and it shattered my heart,” he said softly. 

 

“Rupert-“

 

“No!” He’d raised his voice then, the anger finally boiling over. He rose from his kneeling position. “The pain was worse than being _bloody shot._ He _stood_ there and… and _watched_ me suffer and struggle through the grief… and he _still_ kept us apart!”

 

“I know, son,” Ellie said, reaching for his hand in reassurance, her eyes bright with tears, reflecting her son’s emotions. “And if I didn’t know Douglas they way I do, I wouldn’t give him a second thought, but there is something not right about the way he is acting… about _all_ of this.”

 

“I know,” he capitulated before walking over to the fireplace and resting his forearm against the mantle. He knew they weren’t at liberty to discount his mother’s intuition.

 

“Maybe there is a spell on him. You know, where he can’t say anything,” Buffy suggested. After hearing Ellie’s reservations, she was conflicted about Douglas. Perhaps they’d let their emotions get the better of them and had been a little too hasty in firing him.

 

“There was no magick caught up in his aura,” Ellie replied despondently. “I checked.”

 

“Maybe he has somebody watching him. Maybe they will kill him or something if he tells,” Buffy suggested. “He was pretty tight lipped when we asked him questions.”

 

Wandering back over to the sitting area, Giles stuffed his hands in his pockets. “What are you thinking?”

 

Buffy looked up at him. “Well, if he can’t verbally answer for whatever reason, maybe he can react to yes or no questions. Like blink once for yes, twice for no, or something.”

 

“It’s worth a try,” Giles agreed. “We certainly don’t have any other leads.”

 

Ellie placed her hands on her lap and stood, “I’ll see what I can arrange, but it will have to wait until late evening, he was going to a friend’s for dinner.”

 

“If someone is monitoring him, you’ll have to come up with a plausible reason to call,” Buffy suggested.

 

“His wages,” Giles, suggested. “He never collected them upon leaving the house.”

 

“Good. We will go into town for lunch and a spot of shopping, then meet Douglas at a pub together for an afternoon pint and to provide him with his cheque.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” Buffy responded, standing up. Giles rose with her.

 

“I shall retire now. Don’t worry about me. I will take dinner in my room. Oh and if there is any news of your father…”

 

Giles nodded, the look on his face understanding. “I will let you know.”

 

“Good, I will do the same,” Ellie replied, her voice determined. “Breakfast at the usual time.”

 

“Are you sure, Mum? We’d love to have you join us for dinner.”

 

“Quite. I am knackered after casting last night and staying up late talking - that and the emotional turmoil over Douglas and your father going on this ridiculous expedition. I’m afraid I am turning into an old woman,” she sighed, placing her hand on her son’s shoulder.

 

“You’ll never be old,” Giles countered, leaning in to kiss his mother on the cheek.

 

Ellie smiled at him and gave Buffy a hug before taking her leave.

 

After a few moments, Giles let out a sigh and sat back down on the sofa. “I’m worried about her. She looks so frail.”

 

“She looked that way when she first saw you lying in the ICU, but she rallied and made sure you got the proper care you needed all while worrying for you,” Buffy said, sitting down next to him and taking his hand in hers. “And she worried for your dad, who insisted on going on patrol with me.”

 

“He’s stubborn like that. I can’t believe he went with the expedition team.”

 

“Your dad is very capable and very fit for a man his age, but, patrolling with a Slayer is very different than stomping through a jungle and chasing demons in the middle of an island where things are politically unstable. He’s _seventy-five_ and never should have gone on a mission like that.”

 

“No he shouldn’t have,” he agreed. “Now Mum’s concerned for him and angry at him… I don’t know what she’d do if she didn’t have him to nag after constantly.”

 

“Your mum… well, she and your dad have been together for over fifty years. She knows him better than anyone and she is the most pragmatic person I have ever met. When he returns, she probably will slap him and kiss him within the same heartbeat.”

 

“Growing up, I thought they hated one another,” he said, looking down at his hands. “They’d argue constantly and I’d have to walk a thin line between them, never siding with one or the other.”

 

“But they love each other deeply. I mean, I saw the tension between them when you were in the hospital, but their support and their love for one another never wavered. Unlike my parents. They just… after a while, there wasn’t any love there anymore.”

 

Giles squeezed her hand in support. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Eh, they were better apart,” she dismissed. “But your parents, despite their differences and the challenges, are amazing together.”

 

Giles let her words sink in before he continued, “She’s always been the rock of our family. Despite all the challenges we’ve faced, she’s kept us together. She’s trying hard now, but she’s shaken. I wish there was something I could say… or do.”

 

Buffy rose and walked over to him, placing a calming hand upon his back. “Allow her the time she needs. There isn’t anything we can do at the moment but wait for the call from your contact in Bermuda. Come on, let’s go for a walk before dinner.”


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

 

 

Out in the fresh air, Giles had to admit he felt a little better. He and Buffy walked hand in hand through the manicured gardens in the early evening, the smell of lilacs permeating the air. As beautiful an evening as it was and as wonderful it was to share it with Buffy, he was still distracted, his mind unable to compartmentalize the issues at hand.

 

She allowed him the space he needed, her presence in which to ground him, and the solitude in which to think. And he did. When his thoughts became too heavy, and his brow too furrowed, he squeezed her hand or pulled her close and she would look up at him, wanting to unburden him from his worries, but instead, offering him her unwavering support and love.

 

As they came to the end of a path, his mobile phone rang and he dug into his pocket to take the call. “Giles here.” They were the first words he’d spoken in close to an hour. “Ah, Dr Batra, thank you for reaching out. Do you mind if I put you on speaker? My Slayer is here with me and I’d like for her to hear what you have to say as well.”  
  
They had passed a bench some twenty yards back and Giles directed them back towards it before putting Rebecca Batra on speaker phone.

 

“We are both here now,” Giles stated. “Are you still there Dr Batra?”

 

“Yes, thank you, and please, call me Rebecca. Miss Summers, it is an honor to speak with you.”

 

Buffy looked at Giles with amusement as they sat down on the bench. “It’s Buffy, and the honor is mine. Thank you for getting back to us.”

 

“I know you are eager for news of Sir Frederick’s whereabouts. Protocol usually places the parlay in the hands of the second, which would be me, leaving the commander at headquarters. I had planned to go, but Haiti is such a hotspot at the moment politically that it was agreed amongst our chief advisors that your father would go, but that he would stay in Port-au-Prince, working with Haitian officials to aid the expedition force from there. Last known contact with Sir Frederick had him relaying his intentions to join the team on their mission since the situation was as he put it, ‘very delicate.’”

 

“Christ,” Giles muttered under his breath.

 

“Protocol further states that I am not to leave the country while the Commander is away, so I have since sent Lydia Manning to Haiti to represent the Council at the government level. Unfortunately, the team left on the mission before Lydia arrived on the island. In accordance to the plans for the mission, communications went dark as soon as they reached the jungle and they will remain so until such a time as the mission is complete or they radio for an airlift out, but not lasting more than a week.”

 

Buffy shook her head. She didn’t like it. “Any news from Lydia?”

 

“Yes, actually, according to her, Sir Frederick never showed up for the meeting with the Haitian officials negotiate the terms to operate within the country. Instead he authorized the mission and took off with the team. Lydia has been trying to smooth things over, however the situation is very delicate, as you can imagine. She is trying to convince her counterparts not to send in a force of their own.”

 

“So we have a Council sanctioned expedition team wandering through the jungles of a potentially hostile host country _without following the proper diplomatic protocols_ in search of a group of extremely dangerous demons, and that host country may send in their own team in after ours,” Buffy summarized with wide eyes. “This could get ugly.”

 

“As stated before, the situation is delicate,” Rebecca stated, her voice reflecting the severity of the situation.

 

“Dad knows better than this!” Giles muttered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. “Something must’ve happened for him to go in without authorization from the host country.”

 

Buffy took the phone from Giles’ hand. “What are the options?” she asked the lieutenant commander.

 

“Lydia is doing her best to negotiate the original deal, which would to grant us the authority to take out the demon nest. Should she be successful, it would give the team another seventy-two hours to complete the mission.”  
  
“And if she’s not?”

 

“We offer a compromise, stressing the danger from the demons, hope they accept our terms, and send in a joint extraction team comprised of Council operatives and members of their National Police Force.”

 

Buffy put her hand on Giles’ forearm. He looked down on her and she placed her thumb over the microphone. “I could go. Have them send me.”

 

“No,” he said gently. “There is too much at stake, not enough time, and even if we could get you there in time to join the team, there are too many unknown variables.”

 

“Giles-“

 

“No!” He was adamant, his voice impassioned. “We don’t know what we are dealing with here. What if it is a trap? To separate us again? To possibly lose you… forever this time? I can’t risk that.”

 

“But you are willing to risk your _father?”_

 

“Mr Giles, are you there?” Rebecca asked over the line.

 

Buffy released her thumb from the microphone. “Yes, sorry. We were discussing the issue.”

 

“That’s quite all right. I need to ring off, but I promise I will update you as soon as I know anything.”

 

“Yes, of course. In the meantime, if there is anything you need from us, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

 

They said their goodbyes and Buffy stood up and started pacing, anger radiating off of her. “What the hell, Giles? That’s your _dad_ out there in the middle of the jungle!”

 

“Yes, it is!” Giles remained seated on the bench. “And for all we know, he decided to go on one last heroic mission and is in no immediate danger.”

 

“Oh come on! You don’t believe that! Your _mother_ doesn’t believe that! You heard Rebecca. He didn’t meet with the authorities. Doesn’t that strike you as oh, I don’t know… grossly out of character?”

 

“It is certainly a cause for concern, but there… there could be circumstances that might dictate such a decision s-such as an immediate threat to people. We just don’t know.”

 

“Stop playing devil’s advocate!” she yelled.

 

Giles stood, his hackles up. “What would you have me do? I have to be the voice of reason here!”

 

“And so we are going to sit back here and wait?” She couldn’t believe he accepted that as an option.

 

“There isn’t much else we can do for Dad or the rest of the team. There is no way we can get there in time to support an extraction sufficiently without putting everyone involved in the mission at risk.”

 

“I have experience with military operations,” Buffy reminded him, placing her hands on her hips defiantly.

 

“Because you worked with the Initiative for a number of months?” She nodded. “Buffy, they were young men fresh out of basic training with no real experience, only playing at soldiers. They hauled in demons - of which they knew very little - after stunning them with tasers, and then incarcerated them for government research purposes. They never took on more than a few demons at one time and when they came across the more sophisticated ones, they were lucky not to lose more men than they did. These demons in Haiti… they hunt in packs, are quite intelligent, and know the terrain better than the humans living in that region of the island. The extraction team has been working as a single, cohesive unit for years, they can anticipate each other’s moves, and they are experts in their field who continually study the terrain, climate, and the types of demons native to the region. We would only be in the way, distracting them.”

 

“How can you-“

 

“He’s _my father_ , Buffy,” Giles stated in quiet resignation, placing his hands in his pockets and hunching his shoulders. “I have to trust Rebecca, Lydia, and everyone involved over there to do their jobs and do them properly. If we were in Bermuda, then maybe it would be a different story. Maybe there would be enough time to get briefed and run a few training exercises with the team, but we are _here,_ and we can’t forget that whoever is pulling the strings of this elaborate plot is _here…_ on this side of the ocean. If we don’t stop him… or her, none of us will be safe, least of all Dad.”

 

A lone tear coursed down Buffy’s cheek and she quickly swiped it away in frustration. “I _hate_ this!”

 

Pulling her into his arms, Giles answered, “I know, I do too.”

 

“I don’t know what I would have done without your parents. Your dad… god, despite the very thought of losing you he was there for me. I don’t know how he could’ve been so caring and so selfless knowing your life was in danger… especially when I called him on the phone to let him know what happened. Giles…”

 

He swallowed the lump that rose in his his throat. “I am so sorry, my love.”

 

—————

 

_Giles tried opening his eyes, but the room was too bright and his pupils were having trouble adjusting. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move… hell everything hurt. He let out a soft groan as he forced one eye open. His father, who had been sitting in the chair next to the bed, set his book down and sat up to tend to him._

 

_“How are you, son?”_

 

_Having gotten partially used to the light, Giles opened the other eye and gave his father a glare._

 

_“If you are hurting, you can press the morphine pump,” Frederick Giles said, placing the apparatus in his son’s left hand. Giles closed his eyes, his thumb hovering over the button in indecision. “You can’t heal if you are in pain, Rupert. You need the muscles to relax. Press the button.”_

 

_Giles opened his eyes and looked at the door before tracking back to his dad._

 

_“Buffy’s fine. She’ll be back in a few hours. I sent her home. She is exhausted and needs to sleep… in a bed. Your friends are taking patrol for her later tonight and your mother is there with her now to ensure she sleeps and to help with her sister.”_

 

_Having let out a soft sigh of relief, Giles closed his eyes in thanks, knowing his parents were watching over Buffy as well. He worried about her. When he’d first opened his eyes coming out of the coma, seeing his parents had confused him, but then his eyes had fallen on Buffy, hanging back behind his mum, looking so tired, so pale, her eyes rimmed red, and all he’d wanted to do in that moment was to hold her and tell her everything would be okay. He’d wanted to reassure her he would be fine, but as his confused mind started to piece together the clues and the severity of the situation became apparent - lying in a hospital hooked up to the monitors, the intravenous drugs, covered in bandages, and having his leg caged in the external fixation device - he knew he’d be unable to provide her with any comfort._

 

_“I’m sorry you… had to… come… to help… to-”_

 

_“Nonsense, boy! Where else would I be?”_

 

_Giles opened his eyes and met his father’s._

 

_Frederick placed a reassuring hand over his son’s and squeezed. “I’m proud of you, son. So very proud. The least your mother and I can do is be here for you and your Slayer. She is quite extraordinary.”_

 

_He blinked in response and pressed the button on the morphine pump. In a few moments, the pain would subside. He just didn’t like how muddled his mind would be, but Buffy was safe, his parents were seeing to her welfare and he could relax a little, knowing she was in good hands._

 

_“W-water,” Giles croaked._

 

_Frederick picked up the styrofoam cup and situated the straw at his son’s mouth. After a few swigs, Giles moved his head, indicating he was done. His throat felt less like sandpaper._

 

_“Thanks, Dad.”_

 

_“Buffy said you slept through her shift.”_

 

_“Rough morning,” Giles rasped, closing his eyes again. It took effort to just breathe. The overhead lights were off, but it was still too bright. “Sheets were changed. Doctors came after… then the nurses… then physio… upper body… too much…”_

 

_“Rest, son, I will be here until Buffy gets back.”_

 

_Giles opened an eye and looked at his father. “Mum?” he asked._

 

_“Will be back in the morning. She wants to be here to speak to your doctors when they are performing their rounds.”_

 

_Giles nodded, his body relaxing and fading into oblivion as the morphine kicked in._

 

_He woke to the sound of Buffy’s voice. Despite her speaking in hushed tones, he could hear every word. As his eyes adjusted, he noticed her sitting opposite his father, their knees almost touching._

 

_“I thought your friends were patrolling for you tonight,” Frederick said with concern._

 

_“They are. It’s just when I got here, there was a gang of vamps ambushing the blood supply truck. I took them out,” she explained. “I couldn’t let them get away with it. There was a shortage when they brought Gi… Rupert in. I don’t want other families to go through that for their love ones,” she explained, looking down at her hands, trying to keep a neutral tone._

 

_Gently placing his finger under her chin, Frederick moved her face from side to side, noting the purpling bruise on Buffy’s cheek. “Does it hurt? Are you injured elsewhere?” he asked, dropping his hand back down on the arm rest._

 

_Giles noticed the slight wince as she shifted in her chair._

 

_“It’s fine and I’m a little sore, but I’ll be okay in the morning. Gotta love that Slayer healing,” she answered a  little too flippantly._

 

_Frederick’s expression was skeptical, but he continued his questioning. “How many?”_

 

_“Seven. They were fairly sophisticated in their attacks. Sort of a coordinated effort as opposed to individuals attacking one after the other. But they are all dust. The fight didn’t last long.”_

 

_Giles bit back on the bitterness that welled up inside him, at the inability to assist his Slayer, to comfort her, to tend to her wounds._

 

_“That’s my girl! Did you get any sleep?”_

 

_“Maybe a couple of hours. There are still the nightmares. I’m still reliving-“ She stopped suddenly, her eyes having caught Giles’, and she stood up and walked over to him. Taking his hand in hers, her expression softened and gently brushed an errant lock of hair from his forehead. “How are you feeling, big guy?”_

 

_Closing his eyes, he savored her caress. “Seems like… a question, I should be… asking you,” he gasped out, still unable to take a deep enough breath to get through a sentence._

 

_She sat down in the chair next to his bed. “Typical Thursday night. You know… with the vamps,” she stated with false cheer. “But I got ‘em.”_

 

_“I am going to get some coffee. Would you like some, Buffy?” Frederick asked, rising from his seat._

 

_“Yeah, that would be great, thanks. Make it an extra large? I’m not leaving our patient tonight,” she answered with a tender smile, looking down at Giles fondly._

 

_“Your wish is my command. Be back in a bit. Rupert, be nice,” he teased as he closed the door behind him._

 

_“Your dad is amazing,” Buffy commented._

 

_“He is,” Giles responded with a grimace._

 

_“Pain levels okay?”_

 

_“Tolerable,” he lied. “You are close with him.”_

 

_“Your dad?”_

 

_Giles nodded._

 

_“Yeah, he’s a pretty great surrogate Watcher and he treats me like I’m his daughter, which, in light of my own dad’s continued absence, has been really nice. Dawn’s taking to calling your parents Nana and Grandpa, though. She never knew our grandparents. They all died before she was born.”_

 

_Giles chuckled and then winced in pain asking, “How is… how is Mum taking that?” He couldn’t imagine that went over well with her insistence on propriety._

 

_“Actually, she and Dawn have hit it off rather well. Your mum took her shopping the other day and your dad dotes on her, spoiling her rotten. You thirsty?”_

 

_He was a bit astonished at the news, but quickly realized that his parents were both trying to normalize things in the Summers house as best they could. As he nodded in assent, Buffy brought the cup with the straw to his lips._

 

_“Oh and Xander called your dad Papa G the other day. I have never seen him back pedal and apologize so quickly. Let’s just say we all know where your glare comes from.”_

 

_“His is more… effective…” he stated, sinking back into the pillows with a groan._

 

_“He’s had more years to perfect it. Don’t talk, Giles, rest.”_

 

_“Don’t want to… bored,” he replied. “You training?”_

 

_“Yeah, your dad put me through a couple routines and in return I took him on a couple light patrols.”_

 

_Giles pulled out the glare on her. He didn’t want either of them in harms way._

 

_“Believe me when I say that I didn’t put him in any danger. We walked around Restfield and Sunnydale Cemeteries. No one has been buried in either one for weeks. And Spike’s all healed up from his fall, so he’s hitting all the hot spots for us.”_

 

_Giles’ facial features softened in relief._

 

_“Frederick means a lot to me, Giles,” She stared at their joined hands, her thumb rubbing the back of his. “Your dad… he’s a rock. I don’t know how he’s holding it all together and taking care of me and Dawn too. I promise I will never let anything bad happen to him… or your mum.”_

 

_When her eyes met his, he blinked his thanks before sleep took over once again._

 

_—————_

 

Buffy clung to Giles, the fight in her having lost out to the grief and fear. “I love your parents…”

 

“I know and I love you for it,” Giles said in a soothing voice, stroking her hair. 

 

“I promised Ellie. I promised her I would look out for him,” she sniffed.

 

“And we will do that as best as we can from here. I promise. I need to speak with Mum and update her on the situation with dad and see when we are meeting with Douglas. Then we’ll find out what he knows and put an end to this matter.”

 

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed backing out of their embrace, tamping down her emotions. “It’s time we bring this whole mess to a close.”


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

 

 

As Giles approached his parents’ residence in the great house, his mother’s maid came out of the apartments and quietly closed the door behind her.

 

“How is she?” he asked as the woman neared.

 

“She’s sleeping, sir.”

 

He looked at his watch. It was only 6:30 in the evening. “I see.” His eyes rested his mother’s door before turning back onto the woman before him. “Christine, would you speak freely with me?”  The maid looked a little nervous and he made to reassure her. “I wouldn’t ask you anything that would betray my mother’s trust or make you feel uncomfortable.”

 

Christine looked relieved and nodded.

 

“How is she fairing?”

 

“She’s in good health. Before coming home, she walked a mile and half along the beach every morning before the heat of the day and every evening as the sun set with your father,” she stated.

 

Giles felt relieved. “I suppose all the travel has worn her out-”

 

“No, sir!” she quickly interrupted, before looking a little embarrassed. “It’s… it’s just when she casts. The magic takes a toll on her energy reserves. It’s taking longer for her to recover now because of her age. If your business isn’t an emergency, it would be best to speak with her in the morning. She should be fully recovered by breakfast.”

 

“Of course,” Giles agreed, his features kind. “Tell me, how did my father seem when you and my mother left?”

 

“He seemed fine. Your father is very active. He goes to the gym daily and still rides on Saturdays, cross country, much to your mother’s consternation.”

 

Giles shook his head with an amused little smile. He hoped to be half as active as his father at seventy-five. But the news of his father’s vigor boosted his morale. If he was in any sort of trouble, he most likely could hold his own.

 

“Thank you, Christine.”

 

“You are welcome,” she replied as she started to walk away. Before making it halfway down the hall, she stopped and turned around. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she started as she pulled out a note from her pocket. “Your mother wanted me to give you this.”

 

Giles caught up to her and took the envelope from the maid. “Thank you,” he stated as she turned to head back to the main area of the house. He pulled out the note.

 

_Lunch at Hare and Hounds at noon. Meeting to follow about an hour after._

 

So, his mother had been successful in arranging the meeting with Mr Douglas. He nodded his head and placed the note into his pocket before making his way down to the dining room where Buffy was waiting for him.

 

—————

 

Knocking on Giles’ apartment door, Buffy let herself in. She was dressed in a soft, pink cotton nightgown that came down to just above her knees. “It’s just me,” she called out, walking across the lounge area towards his bedroom.

 

Sticking his head out of the bathroom with his toothbrush in hand, he said, “I don’t see why you don’t just move your stuff in here,” before shoving his toothbrush back into his mouth to scrub his molars.

 

She sat down on the bed answered, “Because your mum is in the house.”

 

Giles rolled his eyes and spat out the toothpaste. He cleaned himself up before walking up to her and leaning over for a kiss. “She knows, Buffy. It was fairly evident that we weren’t playing a vigorous game of backgammon this afternoon when she came round.”

 

“I know…” she replied, watching him walk over to his armoire to pull out a pair of pajama bottoms to sleep in.

 

Giles turned around and, raising an incredulous eyebrow, stated, “So you won’t move your things in here, but you will sneak down the hall in your nightclothes to sleep with me.”

 

“I know it seems kind of ridiculous.” His other eyebrow joined its partner near his his hairline and she shook her head in an effort to organize her thoughts. “I mean, yeah, I’m now sleeping with you, but… I am not… you know… shacked up with you… under your parents’ roof. I know it all sounds lame, but after she knocked on the door this afternoon… I don’t know…” She let out a frustrated sigh. “I guess it’s just that ever since she came to Sunnydale she’s kinda become like my mom too and it’s… awkward,” she tried to explain, twisting her fingers together in the way she usually did when she was trying to work things out.

 

“I am calling a real estate agent tomorrow,” he muttered under his breath as crossed the room to sit down next to her. “It’s a huge house. You don’t think you could get used to it… for me? My parents’ apartments are on the opposite side.”

 

Taking his hand, Buffy gave him a reassuring smile, “Giles, my stuff is just down the hall. I’m here. With you. That’s what’s important.”

 

He brought her hand up to his lips and dropped a kiss on the inside of her wrist. “You are right, of course.”

 

“There you go being all wordy. Just try ‘yes, dear’ in the future,” she teased, turning towards him to kiss his lips.

 

“Yes, dear,” he responded, bringing his hands up to cradle her face.

 

—————

 

The Hare and Hounds was about as typical as a local pub gets in a small town in the west of England. However, the landlord had renovated recently and gone upscale, so the old wood had been restored, the brass polished, the upholstery on the chairs and benches replaced, and the menu had been upgraded to include more extensive and upscale dishes to accompany the traditional pub fare of fish and chips and meat pies.

 

After having spent a week in Merry Olde, Buffy was ready to tear into a cheeseburger. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the food she’d had while staying with Giles, she did, she just felt the need for some serious comfort food. Especially in light that there was no new news of Frederick’s whereabouts. Giles ordered the sea pie and his mother had decided on the pan seared scallops with the tarragon creme sauce.

 

Once they were finished with their mains, they sat around and enjoyed the atmosphere, finishing off with coffee and dessert in the relaxed atmosphere. Although Ellie had skipped dessert in favor of a pot of tea. The conversation had dwindled to almost nothing the closer they came to the hour to meet the former butler. Giles scanned the pub for any familiar and not so familiar Council faces without much success - no one stood out, but for an early weekday afternoon, it wasn’t too crowded and he was able commit the faces to memory.

 

Buffy, shifted in her seat and checked the old clock that stood high over the mantle of the fieldstone fireplace. It wasn’t quite two yet and she felt restless, not unlike the hour before patrol when she waited for the last of the day’s light to fade. Giles noticed her fidgeting and, even though he felt just as disquieted, he placed a calming hand over hers. Their eyes met and he gave her an understanding smile.

 

Ellie looked over at them and gave a little admonishing huff. “Settle down, you two. You look like you are preparing for battle. Mr Douglas is not the enemy, I assure you.”

 

“It’s not Douglas we are worried about,” Giles answered through clenched teeth.

 

“I understand. Now _relax!”_ she commanded. “Either you will tip off anyone who is observing Mr Douglas’ movements or he will feel too uncomfortable to provided us with the information we need.” Shaking her head, she muttered under her breath, “This, the cracking team that guarded a Hellmouth.”

 

Buffy’s questioning eyes went wide and Giles rolled his in response. Apparently Ellie had a snarky streak. Placing her hand on his shoulder, Buffy excused herself. She needed to walk around and expend some pent up energy and the only recourse she had at the moment was to race up the stairs to the bathroom and splash cold water on the back of her neck.

 

“That was a bit rude,” Giles chided before taking a sip of his coffee.

 

“It was a bit, yes,” Ellie agreed. “I will apologize when Buffy gets back. But we have nothing to fear from Mr Douglas.”

 

“I wish it weren’t so, but I’m afraid, you are quite wrong, Lady Giles,” a calm voice stated behind them.

 

Giles rose from his seat and turned to the newcomer. “Are you threatening my mother, _Douglas_?” he asked, his jaw clenched as he towered over the former butler. 

 

“Rupert, sit,” she stated in her even manner. “Now Mr Douglas would you take a seat and please explain yourself?”

 

Douglas sat down next to Ellie and opposite Giles, his face resigned. “I am afraid I can’t really tell you more, my lady.” His eyes spotted a something from across the room and his demeanor changed. “I believe you have my paycheck. I will leave you all alone presently. It’s for the best, you understand.”

 

Ellie discretely followed his gaze and nodded. “I see,” she stated, noting a figure sitting in the shadowed corner of the pub. Her eyes quickly caught her son’s and she casually tapped her finger on the table in the direction of the observer before continuing to address her former employee. “I do have your check, Mr Douglas, however I would like to discuss your separation from our service. I believe my son was perhaps rather harsh considering the number of years you have served our family.”

 

“That is generous of you, Lady Giles,” he answered, folding his hands together on the table to keep them from shaking.

 

“Would you like a pint, Mr Douglas?” Giles asked congenially, his demeanor changed as the theory that the butler was in some sort of trouble had actually come to light.

 

“Yes, please.”

  
  
Giles signaled their waiter and ordered a pint for the other man and another coffee for himself. 

 

“How long have you been with us now, Mr Douglas?” Ellie asked.

 

“A long time, Lady Giles. Before you married Sir Frederick. My parents served the family and I was given odd jobs as a boy when I wasn’t in school.”

 

Ellie nodded. “That is a long time and I do feel that you should be compensated for all that loyal service.”

 

Buffy returned and sat down at the table opposite Mr Douglas, giving him a tight smile. It was clear he was rather surprised to see her with his former employers.

 

“Mr Douglas, I believe you’ve met Buffy Summers, Rupert’s _fiancée,”_ Ellie stated. “Buffy, you remember Mr Douglas.”

 

The former butler looked just as taken aback as Buffy felt. She managed to hide her surprise and smiled when Giles took her hand and squeezed it in a supportive manner before bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back of it.

 

“Congratulations to the both of you. I wish you both happiness,” Mr Douglas responded sincerely. There was a warmth in his tone that hadn’t been there the countless times she had called the house over the past year and been rebuffed, and a kindness in his facial features that replaced the cold indifference she’d encountered upon knocking on the door earlier in the week.

 

“Thank you,” Buffy replied softly as the waiter placed the pint of lager in front of the butler and the cup of coffee in front of Giles.

 

Waiting for the formalities to finish, Ellie continued, “I was terribly disappointed upon my arrival home to find that you had been been sacked by my son and future daughter-in-law, Mr Douglas, and I must say, I was quite confused as to the nature of your dismissal. Your service up until recently has been commendable.”

 

“I am sorry to have disappointed you.”

 

“Be that as it may, I would be happy to provide you with a recommendation should you be able to shed some light on a particular problem we seem to be having.”

 

“My lady-“

 

“The other day we removed a pest from the garden,” she continued without allowing the butler his protest. “and the flowers have since flourished and resumed blooming.”

 

“I am very glad to hear it, my lady,” he responded evenly.

 

“I understand that you had some knowledge of the issue. My question is why did you not inform us?”

 

“My understanding of the problem - as told to me by an arborist - is that any solution would have done further damage,” Mr Douglas answered, his concerned eyes meeting his former employer’s. “Especially to the roots of the oak tree.”

 

The way Mr Douglas stated his case, sent chills up Buffy’s spine and she noticed Giles sit up straighter in his chair.

 

“I trusted the arborist, Lady Giles. The only recourse open to me was to allow the pest access to the garden and hope in time it would simply move on without causing further damage,” the butler explained.

 

“Do you think there is still a danger to the oak?” Giles asked, his visage still calm as he forced himself to take a sip of his coffee.

 

Douglas gave an almost imperceptible nod. “ _I_ _cannot_ say, Master Rupert. I am not an arborist, just a butler. Any solutions I might have proposed would have caused irreparable damage to the oak and without its shade…” His eyes fell on Ellie. “The prize flower in the garden would wilt and wither.” 

 

‘I see,” Ellie replied, her face still calm. “My husband knows an expert arborist in the city. Perhaps he might be able to shed light on the matter?”

 

“Ah, well, I remember him from when I was working with a former estate manager long ago. His methods are now outdated, and my understanding is that there is someone younger on his staff who may have more knowledge on the matter of blights and pests. He could be considered a _magician_ in his field. He’d been out to the house before…” Mr Douglas trailed off, his eyes entreating them to understand.

 

“Is there anything more we should know?” Giles asked.

 

“I know nothing more, sir.”

 

“I see, well I do thank you for your insight on this matter,” Ellie said. “I will phone you as soon as I have your letter of recommendation ready.”

 

“Thank you, Lady Giles. You are most generous, but I think I should like to retire. Starting over in a new house at my age… well, it doesn’t suit me.”

 

“I shall insist you come pick it up just in case you change your mind, Mr Douglas.” Ellie had placed her foot down. Pulling out the check, she thanked him again for his time and his service.

 

“Yes, of course, my lady.” He rose from the table, taking the check from her and folding it before placing it in his back pocket. “I shall make an appointment within the fortnight.” Turning to Buffy and Giles, he said, “My congratulations again. It is my sincerest wish that the garden at the manor should expand and flourish.”

 

Buffy blushed and Giles extended a hand in thanks, trying not to dwell on the implications of the former butler’s words.

 

—————

 

“So, uh… Ellie, that was perhaps the greatest bit of code speak I have ever witnessed,” Buffy complimented from the back seat, her voice holding a note of awe as they drove back to the Giles’ home.

 

“That, my dear children, is how to handle these situations,” Ellie replied smugly.

 

“Definitely much better the whole, ‘blink once for yes, twice for no’ line of questioning,” she agreed.

 

Giles made a left onto the main road. “Considering Douglas was being watched and we could have been overheard, it was certainly the better option,” he agreed.

 

“So uh… we’re all in agreement that Frederick is the oak, right?” Buffy asked.

 

“Yes,” Ellie concurred through clenched teeth. “And it would seem that whatever threat is hanging over Mr Douglas, is directed at Frederick through magicks.”

 

“Perhaps some sort of trigger,” Giles added. “Should he say anything, Dad would be targeted.”

 

His mother’s tone held a high level of contempt. “Clever bastards.”

 

“I would’ve said evil,” Buffy suggested in disgust.

 

“That too.” Giles paused before continuing, “And it doesn’t sound as if Quentin is the ring leader either.”

 

“But someone below him,” Buffy stated. “Someone on his staff. Probably close to him.”

 

“I’d put my money on Nigel.”

 

“Which one is he?”

 

“The one you threw the sword at during Quentin’s surprise visit at the Magic Box.”

 

Buffy let out a little laugh at the memory. “Gotcha. Yeah… but he’s a by the rules kind of guy. Seems sort of… off, don’t you think?”

 

“He was also the most ambitious out the delegation,” he reminded her, looking at her in the rear view mirror. “And he was rather hostile when we interrupted his meeting with Quentin.”

 

“True. But we were sort of… throwing our weight around. Or I was.”

 

“Frederick would know if Nigel had been part of the team presenting him with his new assignment. Unfortunately, we have no way of reaching him at the moment and my contact didn’t prove informative. Has there been any word on when the extraction team is going in?” Ellie asked.

 

“Rebecca said they are making progress with the Haitian officials. She believes she will be able to send the extraction team into the jungle in forty-eight hours if the expedition team doesn’t emerge before then,” Giles replied as he turned onto the long drive up the hill to the house.

 

Ellie nodded, her brows furrowed. “I want to rest up before dinner this evening, but I think we should head to London tomorrow. It is time we bring Mr Travers into the mix.”

 

Neither Buffy nor Giles could disagree. Mr Douglas had proven loyal, but a misstep on his part or a suspicious handler could prove fatal for the patriarch of the Giles family. And who knew what was going on in the Haitian interior with the nest of demons Frederick and the expedition team were tracking.

 

When they came to a halt, Giles put the car in park and gallantly helped his mother out. He would’ve done the same for Buffy, but she was impatient and independent and let herself out of the vehicle. They parted with his mother in the foyer and headed to the library.

 

“So, when did you propose? I sorta missed it.” Buffy teased when they entered the library, putting her arms around his neck.

 

Giles gave a nervous chuckle and placed his hands on her hips. “When you were in the loo. That way you couldn’t say no,” he answered with a grin, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

 

“Hahaha, seriously though, that through me for a loop,” she said as she pulled out of his embrace to sit down in one of the wingback chairs.

 

“It did me as well.” Giles admitted, walking over to the decanter and pouring them both a finger of scotch. “I understand why my mother would introduce you that way. The matter with Douglas is a private one. It would’ve been unseemly to handle such a delicate situation with someone he would consider an outsider,” he explained. “Mum brought you into the family to set him at ease.”

 

“But he knows I am a Slayer, right?”

 

“Yes, however, to him, you are not a Giles, although by Watcher rights and customs you have a place in the family just as someone born to it, but that is not something he, or most people, would understand.”

 

“You never told me that.”

 

“It’s in the handbook,” Giles replied, walking back over to her and handing her her drink.

 

“Thank you,” she said, taking the glass from him. “And let me just remind you that you didn’t let me read that.”

 

“Eighty-five percent of it is complete shite,” he dismissed before sitting down in the wingback chair next to hers and crossing his long legs.

 

“So what else don’t I know about the Watcher Slayer relationship from this handbook?”

 

“There’s a copy on that shelf over there if you care to read it.”

 

“Maybe I will,” she shrugged noncommittally. “So, it probably was a massive insult to Mr Douglas that I was half the team that sacked him in the first place.”

 

“Yes, it was… and it was intentional on my part to do it that way… having you there. I was angry. You were angry, which made me even angrier. I also played off your reputation as the Slayer to threaten him. It didn’t work. The man is loyal to a fault.”

 

“Loyal to you and your parents.”

 

“As it turns out.” Giles took a sip of his drink.  “I made rather a hash of that didn’t I?”

 

“We were both riding some pretty high emotions that day,” Buffy responded. “Not that it excuses it. We should’ve given him the benefit of the doubt. On the plus side, he doesn’t appear to be holding a grudge.”

 

“No, he doesn’t seem to be. He knows he’s had a massive part to play in all this, after all, there were ways around the situation as we saw today. Instead, he caused us both a tremendous amount of pain.”

 

“Still, he was protecting your dad… and by extension, your mum.”

 

“Yes. Neither my mother nor I are overlooking that fact. We will, of course, grovel our apologies, restore his position once the whole matter is settled, and provide him with restitution.”

 

“Unless he does actually retire.”

 

“The heavens forbid such a catastrophe!” Giles groaned and set his tumbler of scotch down on the table between them. “If he does, I’ll never be able to move out. Trying to find a competent butler is near impossible. That, and I still have to find a replacement for myself as estate manager.”

 

Buffy moved from her seat and placed herself in Giles’ lap. “Well, you’ll just have to come visit me on the weekends in our cozy little love nest that is somewhere else.”

 

“Still not moving in with me, even though Mum has us betrothed?” he teased, brushing his lips against hers.

 

“It’s more fun to sneak down the hall in my robe and nothing else after hours.” Giles groaned and Buffy nipped playfully at his chin. “Besides if I don’t hear a proposal in the bathroom, then it didn’t happen.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “I’ll note that for future reference.”

 

“You do that, Mr Giles,” she giggled before he took her lips in a fiery kiss.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

 

 

Buffy, Giles, and Ellie spent most of the previous evening and the train ride into London discussing their plans for alerting Quentin Travers of the possible fox in his henhouse without raising suspicions amongst his staff, most notably Nigel Sadana. To keep their main suspect in the dark, Ellie had phoned one of Frederick’s lifelong friends and had him set up an appointment with Nigel during the time the three of them planned to descend on the Head Watcher.

 

Ellie Giles’ composure had been nothing short of cool and collected since the initial planning session, and Buffy had recognized her in business mode right away, having watched his mother take charge of advocating for her son’s care with the doctors and nurses at Sunnydale General after he’d been shot.

 

And it had been Ellie’s calm composure, along with Giles’ comforting presence that had kept Buffy from pacing up and down the aisle on the train like a prize fighter about to enter the ring. Okay, it wasn’t really a prize fight they were headed into, but they needed to partner with the Head Quentin Travers to bring Giles’ father home and Nigel to justice, and she knew her track record with the Head Watcher hadn’t been the best. She needed to be on point today for Frederick and Ellie and Giles. She couldn’t let any of them down. Leaning her head against her lover’s shoulder, Buffy took a deep breath and closed her eyes in an effort to clear out the negative thoughts that kept threatening to creep in.

 

Giles felt how tightly wound she was despite her outward appearance of calm and placed his hand over hers in an effort to lend her his support as the taxi navigated through London to the Council buildings, the Watcher in him highly aware of her drive and focus, It felt good. He’d missed being there for her over the last two years, preparing her for the fight. And though she wasn’t literally going into battle, he was pleased that she treated their current situation with the same level of severity.

 

Buffy opened her eyes and met his.

 

“Not long now, love,” he reassured her quietly, as they neared their destination. 

 

Ellie overheard her son and smiled to herself. While she wasn’t keen on his romance with his Slayer considering the danger they both faced on a daily basis, she was content knowing that they had found each other amidst the chaos of their lives and were happy together. Closing her magazine, she placed it in her purse and smoothed down her skirt before taking a glance at the couple and redirecting her attention out the window.

 

She had grown up in and around London. Her father had been a prominent banker and politician and her mother had been the privileged daughter of a career naval officer who had distinguished himself during the First World War. She had met Frederick at a ball. Tall, handsome, and rakish in his white tie and tails, his striking blue eyes had held hers captive from across the room before approaching her and asking her to dance. They’d married less than a year later and a year after that Rupert had came along - their pride and joy. Ellie and Rupert had moved to the Giles’ family home in the West Country when Frederick was assigned Natalia Denisova, his Potential. He’d stayed behind in London utilizing the training facilities there, returning to the house every other weekend for the next few years. After the girl had been called, Frederick and his Slayer traveled the world stamping out evil, leaving behind his wife and young son. Ellie had come to resent the regimented lifestyle that came with her position as the wife of an Active Watcher and had hated her exile in the country.

 

Upon Natalia’s death, Frederick had returned to the Council offices in London and moved his family back into the city, but he’d been changed by his experiences abroad. He no longer was the doting husband and father, but the lone soldier returned from war, stricken by guilt and the horrors he had seen. Their marriage had suffered and a chasm between father and son soon loomed large and had threatened irreparable damage to their relationship. Frederick had put young Rupert through the paces in his studies, his reprimands at times harsh. Ellie hadn’t wanted a Watcher’s life for her son, but had accepted it after she had learnt of Rupert’s Chosen status. However, she and Frederick had fought frequently with regards to how to prepare their son and let him lead a normal life, which had led to an even greater breakdown in their marriage and family life.

 

But through it all, she loved him beyond measure and she loved him enough to stay. She loved him enough to look past the anger and disappointment to see the man suffering from the grief of losing someone he loved dearly at too young an age and the guilt of survival. She loved him as he tried to cope with the experiences he’d had and the things he’d done, from the burdens of being an Active Watcher. 

 

And she’d loved him enough to consult the Council doctors with regards to her husband’s mental state. It was when they’d shaken their heads and explained the extremely low survivor rate for Active Watchers after their Slayers were killed, she realized that the she loved him far too much to give up. So she fought. She fought against the Council’s apathy for the futures of her husband and her son, helping her husband heal his head and his heart and working to mend the rift between father and son. She fought for the husband and father she knew him to be.

 

Even today, things were far from perfect and the majority of their rows over the years stemmed from disagreements revolving around Rupert’s involvement within the Council, but with help and understanding, Frederick came through his ordeal to became the father Rupert needed and the husband she adored.

 

And now she was returning to the Council once again to fight for her family. A family that included another Slayer, one she considered a daughter, one who loved her son beyond measure and loved him enough to fight for him. And for Frederick. And for her.  One she was determined to have live a very long and happy life. She’d nearly lost Rupert three times in the last two years, the last time when she thought she might lose him to the death of his Slayer. She was determined not to let it happen again.

 

—————

 

_Ellie Giles barged through the front doors, her pace quick and clipped as she made her way across the house. She’d planned to return home upon hearing of Buffy’s death, but several hours after Frederick had broken the news to their son, she’d received a call from Rupert’s physical therapist with regards to her son’s destructive behavior and was on the next flight home. When she’d entered his apartments, she found Rupert sitting beneath a blanket in the chaise lounge before the window, his bad leg propped up on pillows and his expression one of profound loss._

 

_“Rupert?”_

 

_He turned his head in her direction. “Mum?”_

 

_“What’s this, then?” she asked gently, pulling up a chair next to the lounge and running her left hand through his hair._

 

_He shrugged and turned to look out the window again. It was a dismal day. The kind where it refused to rain, but the wind blew in gusts and it looked as though the heavens would open up at any moment._

 

_“Do you want to talk?”_

 

_Rupert shook his head._

 

_“Do you want me to stay?”_

 

_He sighed and then shrugged his shoulders. She took his noncommittal answer as her invitation to stay and sat quietly beside him until the sun set and dinner was brought into his room. He made no motion to eat and she let the tray sit, remaining staunchly at his side, waiting until he was ready to talk… or listen._

 

_In the wee hours of the morning, Ellie woke to the quiet sounds of whimpering and moved to turn on the table lamp before turning back in Rupert’s direction. He was sweating and shivering, his jaw rigid and his fists clenched. She knew of her son’s aversion to taking painkillers - he’d been that way since he was a boy, preferring to suffer the agony of injury than take the medication - and she also knew it was his way of punishing himself._

 

_The physical therapist had told her that Rupert had strained the muscles in his leg pretty badly, having pushed himself too hard on the treadmill and fallen off, and they would take a couple of weeks to heal properly before they could restart his therapy regimen._

 

_“Rupert,” Ellie called softly, as she sat down next to him on the chaise. When he didn’t respond, she took his hand in hers and squeezed his shoulder with the other. “Rupert, you need to take your pain pills.”_

 

_He turned his head and refused to open his eyes. He couldn’t face his mother. The physical agony almost masked the torment of his heart breaking over and over again._

 

_“Rupert, your leg won’t heal if you don’t provide the muscles with some relief.”_

 

_He honestly didn’t care._

 

_“Son,” Ellie began, cupping his opposite cheek with her hand and turning his head back towards her. His pale green eyes opened and she drew a quick breath. She’d never seen them look so haunted, his despair so near the surface. Swallowing her own emotions, she said, “Buffy never would’ve wanted you to suffer. She sent you home to get better. To live. She wouldn’t want this for you.”_

 

_“I’ve lost her, Mum…” he said barely above a whisper as he curled into her and wrapped his arms around his mother’s small frame. “I lost her and I wasn’t even there. I-I should’ve been there.”_

 

_Ellie hugged him to her tightly and rocked him before leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “I know, love,”  she whispered, resting her cheek against his soft hair as she had done so many times before when he was a little boy. “It’s okay to grieve. Allow yourself that.”_

 

_She honestly didn’t know what was worse, Frederick’s Slayer dying in his arms or Buffy dying alone a continent away and her son ignorant of the incident and unable to be there for her, but what she did know was that Rupert would never forgive himself, just as his father never forgave himself for Natalia’s death. Unfortunately, Rupert didn’t have a wife and child to come back to, but she vowed that she wouldn’t let the blackness take him. She just needed to find that little spark that would spur her son to stop punishing himself and immerse himself in the things he truly enjoyed. The Council had had him long enough. He could have a normal life now - as normal as could be after an experience such as his - his duty was done._

 

_She held him until he passed out from the guilt, exhaustion, and the pain. In the morning she would force him to eat a healthy breakfast, take his painkillers and anti-inflammatory pills, and move him out of his room during the day. Moping never did him any good._

 

_She stayed with him over the next month and a half, ensuring he was on the road to recovery, helping him find the everyday joys in life again. By the end of her stay, she had him back on a horse, judging local equestrian events, participating with their social circle, and he’d permanently taken on the role of estate manager which had lain vacant for the past six months after their current manager left. And while he still mourned Buffy deeply, Ellie wasn’t worried about he would do anything rash. He was back on track healing physically, and he was slowly coming to terms with Buffy’s death. She knew, however, he’d bear that emotional scar as deeply as the ones from the bullets that tore through his body and the surgeries that followed._

 

—————

 

Ellie eyed the couple sitting next to her. Buffy’s leg was bouncing up and down and Rupert held her hand, his fingers intertwined with hers. At first glance, they seemed like an odd match, but they complemented each other. Beneath the surface, they were very similar, and their experiences - both separate and shared - had brought them closer.

 

Yes, she’d see to it that they were safe from meddling Watchers with rudimentary magicks. And she see to it that her husband was brought home safely from the Caribbean as well. Dr Batra was more than capable of running operations in that theatre. The Council could see the backside of the Giles’ family for all she cared. And… if something terrible had happened to Frederick, well, the guilty would pay. _That_ she would see to and she had no doubt that her son and his Slayer would stand by her.

 

“We’re here,” the driver stated. 

 

Giles paid the taxi driver and after helping his mother and Buffy out of the vehicle, he looked up at the great building, steeling himself once again to confront Quentin. Buffy quickly jogged up the steps to the doors and back down again, releasing a little of that pent up energy, before walking up with Giles and Ellie. As they entered the great hall of the Council main building, they each flashed their credentials at the security checkpoint and continued on to Quentin’s office.

 

Upon entering the reception area, Paul Dickenson, Quentin Travers’ secretary hastily rose from his desk. “Lady Giles, Mr Giles, Ms Summers, how may I help you today?”

 

“We’re here to see Mr Travers,” Ellie responded.

 

“I’m afraid you are not on his schedule,” Paul said, eyeing the door to his bosses office and wondering if Buffy would barge through it again.

 

“No we are not,” Buffy stated evenly. “But I don’t think I need one, if I recall correctly.”

 

Recognizing her authority, Paul immediately backpedalled. “No miss, of course not. Please have a seat and I will inform Mr Travers that you are here.”

 

The three took a seat as Paul strode across the room. He gently knocked on the door and entered the Head Watcher’s office. A few minutes later, he returned and gestured into the opulent office, “Mr Travers is ready to see you. I will be taking my lunch now unless you need anything else?”

 

“No, thank you,” Buffy assured him with a friendly smile. “Go enjoy.”

 

As they strode through the door, they noticed Quentin Travers standing with some effort behind his desk. He looked terribly frail and far older and more tired than he had in their recent visits. Buffy’s concerned eyes met Giles’ equally alarmed ones.

 

“Welcome, Lady Giles, Miss Summers, Rupert,” he greeted, his breathing labored as he indicated to the chairs in front of his desk. “Please sit down.”

 

Giles took the seat between his mother and Buffy after they sat down.

 

Travers weakly sat himself in his chair. 

 

“Are you unwell, Mr Travers?” Ellie asked.

 

“Not one of my better days,” the older man answered dismissively. “I see we are missing one member from this Giles’ family outing. Where is Sir Frederick? I thought he was to return on holiday with you, Lady Giles?”

 

“That is something of which we were hoping you could enlighten us,” Giles replied. “My father has gone missing.”

 

Quentin’s face grew concerned. “Missing?”

 

“In Haiti,” he added.

 

“In Haiti?” Quentin asked, his blood pressure clearly rising. “What the devil is he doing in Haiti?”

 

Ellie proceeded to fill Quentin in on Frederick’s disappearance. Buffy quickly pointed out that it happened not long after Giles had informed his father of the fact that she was alive and she certainly didn’t believe that it was a coincidence.

 

“I was not informed of any goings on in the Caribbean theatre,” Quentin murmured, shaking his head. “I read the most recent report yesterday.”

 

“We also know the Giles’ butler is being threatened,” Buffy stated. “You know, the one who tampered with the communications to keep us apart. Turns out he did it because Frederick’s life is on the line. There’s some magick trigger or something. And now Frederick is missing. Something is _definitely_ up.”

 

“I do believe you are right,” Travers agreed, his voice thin and his pallor wan. “Do you have a suspect?”

 

“I don’t have any solid proof, Quentin, but the from the information we’ve gained, the evidence points to Nigel,” Giles answered.

 

“My suspect as well,” Travers stated, nodding his head, “Nigel Sadana is my liaison for the Caribbean theatre. I sent him to inform your father of his appointment. He handles all the reports that come in, updates me on status… or clearly doesn’t update me on status.”

 

“Ugh! That disgusting piece of -“

 

“Buffy!” Ellie interjected softly, placing a comforting hand on the young woman’s forearm.

 

Buffy wanted to stake something, preferably the soft doughy chest of Nigel the rat, but with him being human, she wasn’t going to get that satisfaction.

 

“He’s been rather ambitious since we returned from Sunnydale two years ago, rising up through the ranks on my team and taking on greater responsibilities.”

 

“And he certainly makes it no secret that he is not a fan of mine,” Giles stated.

 

“Or mine,” Buffy added. “I did throw that sword at him. I mean, I deliberately missed, but he probably needed to change his shorts after… I can’t imagine he’d be a fan after that.”

 

“Yes, I remember. You certainly got your point across,” Quentin acknowledged with a twinkle in his eye.

 

“Did you just pun?” Buffy asked incredulously. “You just punned!”

 

“Yes, well,” Quentin said before clearing his throat, effectively moving on. “Nigel will need to be charged and brought before the tribunal.”

 

“You think?” Giles asked incredulously.

 

“Rupert -“ his mother admonished before a commotion outside the office drew everyone’s attention.

 

Buffy, Giles, Ellie and Quentin all turned when the doors were thrown open and two burly men ushered in a limp, unconscious man into the office, followed by a very brassed off Sir Frederick Giles.

 

“Quentin Travers, I charge this man with attempted murder.”


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

 

 

“Well that’s done,” Quentin Travers stated under his breath. Nigel’s hands were bound behind him with zip ties. “Who’s murder did he attempt?” he asked in a clear tone.

 

“Mine,” Frederick stated. “One of Nigel’s cronies on my expedition team forced me to join the mission into the Haitian jungle. He then kidnapped me after he created a diversion that separated us from the rest of the team. Not the most quick witted, though. Our team leader noticed we were missing and the mission quickly changed from tracking down the demons to rescuing me. It didn’t take long. The would-be assassin had no covert-ops training and was no match for the team. He’s currently being held in a cell at headquarters in Hamilton.”

 

Quentin stood to get a better look at his man hanging unconscious in the security details’ arms. “Drop him,” he commanded with disgust before sitting down again. The two men did as they were told and Nigel landed with a thud on the marble floor.

 

“Thank you, Jeong, Ellis, I think we can handle it from here.” Frederick dismissed his guards.

 

“Sir-“ one of the men protested.

 

“We have a Slayer and an Active Watcher in here, I think we’ll be fine.” The men nodded at the dismissal and shut the great oak doors behind them. Frederick then rushed over to his wife, taking her hands in his. “Ellie, my love, I am so sorry.”

 

“You… old… goat!” she addressed her husband affectionately, any pent up anger giving way to relief. Looking him over she asked, “Are you hurt? I’ve been so worried.”

 

“No, my dear, I am fine,” he answered with an amused smile.

 

Giles hung back wanting to allow his parents to have a moment, but his father reached out and pulled him and his mother into a hug.

 

“It’s good to see you standing on your own, boy!” Frederick whispered, and Giles closed his eyes and allowed himself the luxury of the emotional reunion with his parents.

 

Buffy edged her way closer to Nigel to keep a closer eye on him, her body tense. He lay on his stomach, his head to the side, still unconscious, a nasty bruise manifesting itself over his temple. Satisfied that Nigel was down for the count, she watched the warm reunion of the Giles family, relief and gladness spreading through her before a minor commotion caught her attention and she noticed Travers looking clammy and in distress as his legs started to give out.

 

 Rushing to his aid, she helped him into his chair. “Mr Travers, are you okay?” she asked.

 

“Just need some tea,” he answered, his breathing shallow, “and all will be well.”

 

“The old fool is dying, you dozy cow!” Nigel growled through his teeth as he raised himself up onto his knees. “And when he’s gone, I will make sure your life is a miserable hell for what you have done!”

 

“What _I’ve_ done?” Buffy asked, walking around the desk to face Nigel.

 

“Yes, you!”

 

“ _I_ have averted apocalypse after apocalypse with the help of my Watcher and my friends. Where the hell were _you_ in all this? Oh, let me remind you: _you_ weren’t there. _The Council_ wasn’t there. The Council, which should be a source of information and help for the Slayer - or in this case the Slayers - only did two good things: it brought both Merrick and Giles into my life. Other than that, I have only been on the receiving end of misery.  My mother was nearly killed during the Cruciamentum. Giles was fired for actually doing his job: protecting me and my mother - who was never supposed to enter the arena in the first place. I was nearly killed by your wet worx goons because no one would listen to me when Faith switched our bodies. My sister was nearly sacrificed to open the portals between dimensions because you failed to provide us with the information we needed in a timely fashion and played mind games to assert authority over me. So _you_ and the Council have pretty much done _nothing_ to protect this world from evil. In fact, you have hindered it by getting in the way of _me_ doing _my_ job!”

 

“You are supposed to serve the Council and yet, you have made a mockery of it. Of Quentin. And of _me!”_  

 

Giles eyed the two, assessing the situation, ready to jump in if needed, but he kept his parents shielded behind him. Nigel’s hands were still bound, but he brought himself to his feet.

 

With great effort, Quentin Travers hoisted himself from his chair and placed his hands on the desk to steady himself, his blue eyes hard. “Nigel Sadana, that is enough! You have been charged with attempted murder. I am adding charges of conspiracy, tampering with Council affairs, and maliciously interfering with the Slayer’s duty. You will stand before the tribunal and answer for your crimes.”

 

_“Hypocrite!”_ Nigel spat. “How many years have you been _maliciously interfering_ with the Slayer’s duty? The Cruciamentum… sending  Wyndam-Pryce’s ineffectual and cowardly whelp as replacement Watcher… withholding information on Glorificus. The _only_ reason you still hold the office of Head Watcher is because _I_ keep you here. _Your_ power play in Sunnydale was well intentioned, but you failed and lost the confidence of the majority of the Watchers. _I_ made the alliances and secured the coalition after that disastrous attempt to bring the Slayer back in line. Had you been disciplined, the rest of us on that team, would’ve suffer too! There was _no way_ I was going to ride your coat tails into disgrace! Not then and certainly not now!”

 

“Yes, I too, am guilty,” Quentin sighed, picking up a document. “That is why I am tendering my resignation and submitting myself to Council discipline. It’s all right here.”

 

“You _fool!_ What does it matter to you? You have maybe a few months. The guilty conscious of a _dying man!_ Do you think _she_ will forgive you? Go to hell!”

 

“You are right, Nigel,” Quentin stated calmly. “I need to make my amends and I will accept the consequences. My resignation letter will transfer my authority to someone who has the Slayers’ interests at heart. And you will be spending the rest of your days in a Council cell.”

 

“The hell I will!” Nigel retorted. He started to mumble under his breath.

 

“No!” Ellie yelled, running out from behind her son, feeling the magickal energy surge from the villainous Watcher.

 

Giles reached for his mother and pulled her into his arms, only to hear her scream as his father fell to the floor, writhing in pain clutching at his chest. He let go of her and dropped down to tend to his dad.

 

Buffy watched in horror before looking to Nigel. “Stop the spell or I will make you wish that sword ran you through!”

 

“You can’t save them! It’s started!” Nigel stated with a vile, satisfied grin on his face.

 

“Them?” she turned her head to see Giles gasp in pain as the spell started to affect him as well. She moved to help, but Giles shook his head.

 

“It’s okay,” he assured through gritted teeth. “I’ve endured worse. Just stop him!”

 

Buffy quickly strode across the room, grabbing Nigel by his lapels. “Make it stop!” she growled.

 

He shook his head. “I didn’t weave a release into the spell, Miss Summers, what’s done is done, but if you hurt me, I will prolong their agony.”

 

“You’re bluffing!”

 

“Try me!” he yelled.

 

Buffy let him go and looked back at Giles not knowing what to do.

 

Giles managed to get himself to his knees. “Let my father go. He… he plays no part in this.”

 

“But he does, don’t you see? He’s been interfering with my plans and if he lives, he will continue to do so. Your father has much influence within the Council. I had effectively moved him out of the way in Bermuda, but he had to dig into my affairs. So, now you will both die… and just like that, the Giles family is wiped out.” He laughed in satisfaction. “And, how long do you think your precious Buffy will survive once you are gone? We all know how Slayers who lose their Watchers turn out… they either go mad and lose their humanity and the Council steps in to remove them or they become suicidal and they take care of it themselves. Either way, problem solved.”

 

Buffy hit him. Hard. He fell to the floor and laughed as Giles cried out in agony.

 

“I told you I could make it worse!” Nigel cackled, holding his jaw.

 

At a loss, Buffy winced as she watched Giles’ body spasm in pain in response to Nigel ratcheting up the effectiveness spell. Giles watched her through pain filled eyes and she mouthed “I’m sorry”, shaking her head in defeat. Magicks were something she had left to Willow and Giles, and aside from Ethan’s malicious pranks, she never really had to take magick head on.

 

“Release them, Nigel,” Ellie stated calmly as she approached the murderous Watcher. “Or I will unleash my powers on you.”

 

Nigel laughed. “I told you I can’t, but do you think I care? If I could stop the spell, my life would be forfeit, Lady Giles, and I am quite attached to it. I _am_ sorry to hurt you, though. You are an innocent in all this, having married into a Watcher family, but Rupert and his Slayer bitch must not be allowed to go unpunished for their treachery. He will die and so will his father and she will have to endure the rest of her ridiculously short life without him.”

 

“Nigel, I order you to stop this at once!” Travers stated, rising from his seat behind his desk.

 

“I don’t take orders from you anymore, you… _spineless_ worm!”

 

A blast of light shot from Ellie’s right hand, knocking Nigel back several yards into the antique, built-in bookcase. He struggled to right himself, but managed to get to his knees. “That wasn’t nice, milady!” he yelled. “Do that again, and I will ensure you die as well.”

 

“So be it!” She hurled another bolt of magick at him and he fell to the floor.

 

Buffy rushed to Giles’ and Frederick’s sides, father and son convulsing with pain on the floor,  “I’m here,” she soothed, brushing back her lover’s hair and taking Frederick’s hand in hers. If they were to die, she didn’t want them dying alone.

 

“There is nothing you can do, Lady Giles, your men are goners, and afterward, I promise I will kill you too.”

 

“No,” Ellie stated, her lip curling in defiance. “I’ve figured it out, you see. Your magicks are rudimentary and while it’s true you didn’t weave in a release command into the spell, there is a way to stop it.”

 

“So what?” Nigel sneered. “Do you think you can kill me? Can you live with yourself after taking a life? And if you don’t kill me, can you live with yourself knowing you could have saved your husband and your son?”

 

Ellie turned to look at her family huddled on the ground, the two men in her life enduring an slow and torturous death as the dark magicks extracted their life forces from their bodies, her heartbreak evident in her face.

 

“Yeah, I thought not. And with Quentin dead and me in power, Buffy will pay with her life, one way or another.”

 

Turning to face the rogue Watcher once more, Ellie set her jaw, her hard, pale green eyes boring into Nigel’s dark brown ones. “You underestimate me, sir!”

 

The Slayer got up from her place beside the Giles men and stood beside her Watcher’s mother. “I’ll do it, Ellie. It’s my job,” she said with cold calculation. “I can live with it.”

 

“Tend to Frederick and Rupert,” Ellie commanded, her eyes never wavering from her adversary as bright green balls of light took form in her outstretched hands. “I am ending this.”

 

Nigel rose quickly to his feet and charged towards Ellie, his intent to knock her down before she could unleash the deathly magicks and prevent her from thwarting his plans. Buffy positioned herself in front of Ellie to block Nigel when gunshots rang through the air and he dropped like a stone on top of Giles, blood instantly pooling onto the hard, cold, marble floor.

 

“Oh my god!” Buffy panicked, reliving the moment she’d found Giles on the dusty ground with his eyes closed, blood seeping out of his body after they had defeated Glory. Rushing towards her Watcher, she pushed Nigel off of him. He was covered in blood and her anxiety level skyrocketed. “Giles! Giles, speak to me! Please! Oh god, not again!”

 

He groaned and opened his green eyes to find hers. “I’m okay, love,” he rasped, lifting his hand to touch her cheek. “Just a little sore.”

 

“Did you get hit?” she asked, touching his blood stained shirt at his chest.

 

“Only by a 180 pound man running at full speed falling on me,” he answered, lifting himself up onto his elbows with a wince. Noticing Buffy staring at his blood stained shirt, he reached out to cup her face and said gently, “It’s not mine, love, I assure you.”

 

Frederick stirred beside him and Ellie knelt down to be with her husband. After making sure her husband was all right, she reached out and took Buffy’s hand. “They will recover fully in time. I promise.”

 

“Are you really okay?” Buffy asked, turning her attention back to Giles, placing a gentle kiss upon his lips.

 

“I am,” he sighed, resting his forehead against hers. “How are you?”

 

A happy tear strained down her cheek. “A bundle of emotions, but okay. I thought I was going to lose you again.”

 

“I’m here,” he whispered into her ear, hugging her close. “And getting blood all over your nice blouse.”

 

“As long as it’s not yours, I don’t care,” she breathed, melting into Giles’ arms as she closed her eyes and let out a sigh of relief.

 

However, her comfort didn’t last long when she realized that even though Nigel was down, he could still be a threat. Backing out of her lover’s embrace, she crawled over to Nigel and rolled him over. His lifeless eyes stared into the void beyond her.

 

He was dead.

 

Two gaping bullet wounds, one in his stomach, the other in his head had killed him almost instantly. She followed the trajectory of the bullets from Giles’ position over to Quentin Travers, who sat in his chair with a look of stunned relief plastered on his sickly face. The gun still held in his right hand.

 

Making her way over to the Head Watcher, Buffy knelt next to him and gently removed the gun, placing it near the far edge of the desk. “Nice shooting, Tex,” she complimented in a soothing tone.

 

Travers looked up at her and grimaced as he took a painful breath. “I am sorry, Miss Summers, I truly am.”

 

“Thank you… for doing what needed to be done,” she whispered, lightly squeezing his hand. “For not letting Ellie kill him.”

 

He flashed a weak smile as exhaustion settled in across his pallid face. “My papers are in order in that folder on the right… including my resignation,” he said, collapsing back into his chair and clutching his chest.

 

“Mr Travers? Sir? Stay with me, okay? We’re gonna get help.” Buffy urged, looking over his phone. “Shit!”

 

“I’ll be fine, Buffy,” Quentin tried assuring her. “Don’t fuss. See to Rupert and his parents.”

 

Buffy stopped a moment to look at him before picking up the phone. He’d only addressed her as Buffy twice, and that was to keep her off guard, otherwise it was always Miss Summers. This time there was an affectionate quality to his tone.

 

“Frederick also needs some medical assistance. He’s too pale for my liking,” Ellie called to Buffy with concern.

 

“I am fine!” the older Giles insisted raising himself into a sitting position before placing his head between his knees to alleviate the dizziness he experienced.

 

“Clearly,” his wife responded dryly.

 

Having difficulty with the phone system, Buffy slammed the phone back into the cradle. “I don’t know who to call and 911 isn’t working!” she snapped in frustration.

 

Giles rose as quickly as he could considering the stress his body had undergone from Nigel’s attack and limped his way over to the desk. Picking up the phone, he dialed the extension for the Council operator. “This is Rupert Giles. We need an ambulance for Mr Travers and a medic for Sir Frederick Giles. We also have a fatality that needs cleaning up. Internal affairs only for that one. Yes, in the Head Watchers office. Thank you.”

 

Frederick directed the full brunt of his glare at his son, and Giles’ shrugged unapologetically before turning his attention back to Travers when the old man grabbed his forearm.

 

“My papers…” Quentin started, but was unable to finish instead pointing to the folder.

 

“I’ll make sure they get to Sir Michael and the Board of Directors,” Giles replied, trying to put his superior at ease.

 

“No!” the older Watcher declared. “No… your father… they go to your father… he will handle matters.”

 

“All right,” Giles agreed as the Council medics and security detail he’d requested came through the doors.

 

Two of the medics rushed over to help Quentin while the other two went over to check on Giles’ father, who clearly did not want to cooperate until his wife stepped in and gave him a stern look. The security personnel headed towards Nigel’s body.

 

Giles and Buffy moved out of the way to allow for the medics to work on Quentin Travers.

 

“Are you sure they don’t need to check you over?” she asked, grasping his hand, her expression one of concern as she eyed his soiled shirt. 

 

Squeezing her hand in reassurance, he smiled down at her and answered, “I am fine, Buffy, I promise. A bit battered, but otherwise unscathed.”

 

They watched the two medics tending to his father deal with the cantankerous and irritated old Watcher before finally declaring him fit and suggesting painkillers and anti-inflammatories for the next few days.

 

“I told you I was fine! Now go help the security team remove the body or at the very least cover it before the paramedics arrive!” Sir Frederick ordered before he and Ellie made their way over to Giles and Buffy. “Come here, lad.”

 

Giles hugged his father, trying not to get any of Nigel’s blood on him. “That was quite the shared experience,” he said dryly.

 

“Let’s not do that again,” Frederick answered as they released one another.

 

“Definitely not.”

 

Frederick’s gaze fell on Buffy as she moved to stand next to his son. The lines around his kind eyes crinkled in delight as he looked upon her. “What a joyous sight it is to see you! Come here, my girl.” His smile was bright and infectious and she couldn’t help but smile back before burying herself in Frederick’s loving and paternal embrace.

 

“Sir Frederick,” Quentin Travers rasped as the paramedics arrived with a gurney. “Buffy.”

 

The two looked at each other in question and then joined Quentin by his side.

 

“I received a request yesterday morning… from California,” he said, pausing to take a labored breath. “Dear girl, you are extraordinary… don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. My treatment of you in the past was never personal… it was about control and what I thought was best for the Council. For what it is worth, I _am_ sorry. The request… was granted… go live your life. It is yours.”

 

Buffy’s eyes went wide, wondering if Quentin meant what she thought he did. Giles stepped forward to join her, but his mother took his hand and held him back.

 

“Sir Frederick… as senior Watcher, I turn my responsibilities over to you. Your duty… is to the Slayers. See to it they are well looked after.” Quentin collapsed back into his chair, his energy expended.

 

“Of course,” Frederick answered. Looking at the the emergency personnel, he commanded, “Get him to hospital. Quickly now.”


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

 

 

After Quentin Travers had been wheeled out of his office and Nigel’s body removed, all that remained of the incident was the mess of blood and medical waste on the floor. Sir Frederick Giles picked up the folders of important papers from Quentin’s desk to peruse later when Paul Dickinson raced through the doors. Paul surveyed the scene, his eyes widening at the sight of blood on the floor and Rupert Giles’ blood soaked shirt.

 

He then walked over to the desk Frederick Giles sat behind and calmly picked up the phone before dialing the Council operator. “Yes, we need custodial to tidy the mess in the Head Watcher’s office, there’s been an incident. Thank you.” After hanging up the phone, he turned to Giles, eyeing his bloody shirt, and asked, “I take it you aren’t hurt, sir?”

 

“I am fine,” Giles replied, looking down at his shirt in disgust. “It isn’t mine.” He squeezed Buffy’s hand in reassurance, knowing she was still having a hard time reconciling the gun shots from earlier and the sight of blood on his person, even if she did put on a brave face.

 

“Very good. We’re about the same size. I have a set of clean clothes if you would like to freshen up and change.”

 

“I would very much like that. Thank you,” Giles answered, the relief palpable in his voice.

 

“Very good. You can fill me in on what transpired on the way.” Paul then addressed the senior Watcher, “Sir Frederick, when I return, we should go over the papers in Mr Travers’ folder and begin the transition process.”

 

“Yes, yes, of course,” Frederick answered. “Should I look over them first?”

 

“That is up to you, sir. He left specific instructions regarding the transition of power and wished for you to oversee them.”

 

“Of course he did,” Frederick muttered with annoyance, wondering what mess Travers had dropped in his lap now. He’d never been a fan of the former Head Watcher. Since the beginning, the two had butted heads at the academy.

 

Paul nodded towards Giles who gave Buffy a soft smile before leaving with the secretary.

 

Buffy shoved her hands in the pockets of her slacks and wandered over to the desk where Frederick sat staring at the folder as though he expected spiders to crawl out from it. 

 

“He seems awfully calm for someone who’s boss is on his way to the hospital.”

 

Frederick looked up at Buffy, realizing her lack of knowledge into the world of the Council. Standing up, he offered her his seat and pulled up one of the other chairs to sit next to her. “Paul Dickinson isn’t just the secretary to the Head Watcher, Buffy. He is the Castellan of the Council. His primary role is to oversee the transition of power and ensure the peace when the Head Watcher resigns or dies at his or her post. People can’t help but play politics, especially when there is a void in leadership. Of course, there are those like Nigel that play a particularly nasty game of politics given any opportunity to ensure they rise to power.”

 

“Understatement much?” she asked rhetorically.

 

“Yes, well, I am sure Paul knows about some of Nigel’s ambitions and with whom he may have been friendly. We will need to investigate the depth of his alliances and see if anyone knew of his assassination plots.”

 

“How do we know that Paul isn’t a member of Nigel’s coalition?” Buffy questioned skeptically.

 

“We don’t necessarily, but Paul is bound by a blood oath he swore upon taking office to keep neutral in Council politics. His duty is to assist the Head Watcher, whoever that may be, and to ensure transition.”

 

“Even if the choices the Head Watcher makes violates the Council’s directive?”

 

“His job isn’t to police the Head Watcher, Buffy. There is a means of checks and balances for that within the Council structure. Unfortunately, they don’t always work the way we want them to. Usually the Watcher and Slayer work more closely with Council. It’s been a long time since an active pair was permanently stationed so far away. Unfortunately, a man like Quentin saw that autonomy as a threat to Council authority and preferred to keep a strong influence over you and Rupert. The Cruciamentum was never supposed to happen. The test hadn’t been administered in over one hundred years. Travers insisted on it being given to remind the Slayer and Watcher of their allegiance to the Council, to ultimately thrust the authority of the Council upon you both. Unfortunately, he received the approval of the Board, though the vote was split. Obviously, it had the opposite effect due to… well, shall we say… his rather spectacular lack of judgment and mismanagement of the situation and also to your and Rupert’s rebellious natures.”

 

She nodded in understanding, though her blood boiled at the bitter memories of the time.

 

“When Rupert returned to the Council to find out more about Glory, Quentin saw it as an opportunity to bring you both back in line. The Board agreed that it was beyond time to work with the Slayer and her Watcher. They sent Quentin and his delegation to work _with_ you. Unfortunately, that isn’t what happened. Quentin withheld vital information in an effort to bring you back into the fold. It was quite the controversy and he fell out of favor. Through compromise and coalition, he remained in office, though his power diminished, the Board having taken on a more hands on approach into the decision making from the Head Watcher’s office,” Frederick explained. “I am certain we can now assume that with Nigel’s scheming, many decisions made were shielded from the Board over the last two years.”

 

“So we can trust Paul.” It wasn’t a question.

 

“Yes,” he answered, placing a reassuring hand on hers.

 

When Giles and Paul walked back into the office, Giles was no longer covered in blood, having changed into grey sweats and a blue Cambridge hoodie with a kangaroo pocket. He was thankful to be clean and that Buffy would no longer be exposed to a visual reminder of his mortality, however he was a bit underwhelmed at having Cambridge emblazoned across his chest. He found his mother sitting off to the side in one of the high back leather chairs reading her magazine, and his father and Slayer seated at the desk looking over some documents. Walking over to his mother, he place a hand on her shoulder, lightly squeezing it in greeting.

 

“How are you?” he asked as she placed her hand over his.

 

“Tired,” she answered, looking up at her son.

 

“I can imagine. What you did was very brave,” he said. “Thank you.”

 

Her pale green eyes reflected her resolve. “I would’ve killed him.”

 

“I know,” Giles acknowledged quietly. “But I am glad you didn’t have to. I don’t wish anyone having to live with that burden.”

 

They shared a knowing look before Ellie changed the subject. “I was hoping your father would retire after he finished his current assignment in Bermuda, but that seems to not be the case,” she said quietly and with some irritation. “Quentin named your father his successor.”

 

Giles ran his left hand through his hair. “For the transition yes, but only until a new Head Watcher is voted in. It’s not a permanent thing, I assure you.”

 

His mother’s eyes met his. “Your father will accept the post and the Board will back him in the next election, so the vote will go in his favor.”

 

“If this isn’t what you want, you should speak to him. He doesn’t have to accept it,” Giles counseled.

 

“True. But look at him. He is happy and in his element. And he will be good for the Council,” she said with resignation. “At least with this appointment, we will be home on British soil again, and if we live in London, then I am closer to my sister.”

 

“There’s an unhappy thought,” Giles commented dryly, but his eyes glowed with mirth.

 

“Be nice!” his mother chided, her own lips twitching, trying to deny the smile. “Well, best we go up there and see what this mess is all about.”

 

When they were all together, Paul explained to the group that Quentin Travers’ had taken ill recently and that he was fighting a rare form of leukemia. The prognosis wasn’t good, the doctors giving him only a few months at best. It was Quentin’s wish to resign, make amends as best he could with Buffy and Giles, and spend the rest of his days with his family. 

 

As they went through his papers, they learned that he had regretted his decisions in handling the Slayers’ cases. He still felt the Council had the ultimate authority, but that it had to work _with_ the Slayers and their Watchers as opposed to dictating to them. His decision to send a rehabilitated Faith back to the Hellmouth was one he made, in fact, to assist Buffy in her duties, not to hinder her. It was a decision that had the full backing of the Board, as witnessed by the signatures on the order.

 

Quentin’s decision to name Sir Frederick as his successor, though surprising as it was, was a calculated and strategic one. Sir Frederick Giles was rather popular amongst the rank and file with a reputation for fairness and keeping a level head during times of crisis. The fact that he was a former Active Watcher who survived his posting also worked in his favor. There would be no controversy in his appointment to the Head Watcher position.

 

The last document in the pile was the request Quentin had spoken of. It was accompanied by a joint letter from Daniel and Faith recommending that Buffy and Giles be allowed to retire with full honors and benefits. Their justification was such that the Hellmouth was closing and the demonic and vampiric activity in Sunnydale was at the same levels or lower as those in other smaller cities and towns. The lack of a Hellmouth would free Daniel and Faith up to travel the world to other hot spots and fight the fight against evil where needed, freeing Buffy and Giles from their responsibilities as Slayer and Watcher. Buffy had been fighting for seven years, longer than any Slayer recorded in the last half century. Faith, in contrast, had little over two years under her belt and was eager to take the fight to the demons with her Watcher.

 

At the bottom of the document, written in bold script, was the Head Watcher’s signature, along with those from the members of the Board, granting Daniel and Faith’s the request. It was unprecedented, but in Quentin’s last act earlier that morning, he’d pleaded the case before the Board of Directors and won retirement for the senior Slayer and her Watcher.

 

The surprise in Frederick’s voice was evident. “Who knew the old boy had it in him?”

 

“Not me,” Buffy replied shaking her head, unable to stop the smile that spread across her face.

 

Paul extended his hand and, with a congenial smile, said, “Congratulations, Miss Summers.”

 

“Buffy,” the Slayer corrected, taking his hand.

 

He nodded and then shook hands with Giles. “Rupert, I offer you my congratulations as well.”

 

“Thank you,” Giles replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

 

Grabbing his hand, Buffy excitedly drew Giles over to a corner of the office. “Can you believe it?” she breathed, looking up at him, her wide eyes reflecting relief, incredulity, and happiness.

 

He gently took her face in his hands and placed a loving kiss on her lips before resting his forehead against hers. “Scarcely,” he replied. “If I wasn’t so sore and tired and wearing a Cambridge sweatshirt, I’d think it was a dream.”

 

Letting out a little giggle, she looked down at the offending garment and ran her fingers over the crest on his chest. “My Oxford man.”

 

Giles’ heart lifted at her giggle and declaration. He loved to hear her laugh. “Definitely yours and definitely Oxford Blue through and through,” he answered when her eyes sought his again.

 

Her expression changed to thoughtfulness and she took a deep breath before saying, “I think, though, we need to help your dad in his new role. I mean we have an opportunity to make things better for future generations of Slayers if we work with the Council. And we don’t have to patrol or do any fighting or anything anymore unless there is something Faith and Daniel need us for. But I think it’s important that we do this.”

 

“Retired from active duty then, but working with the Council and ready if needed,” Giles clarified.

 

“Yeah, we’ll sort of be like reservists in that way.”

 

He cupped her cheek and kissed her nose, his smile radiating his respect and his pride in her. “Agreed.”

 

Frederick eyed his son and Buffy returning hand in hand to rejoin him at the desk before bringing his attention back to the Castellan. “I think we are done now, Paul. Feel free to alert the staff and the Board of today’s events. I shall be here early in the morning to take on my new role.”

 

“Very good, sir. Mr Travers’ belongings will be removed this evening. He will receive them at the end of the investigation concerning his resignation. There will also be an investigation into Mr Sadana’s treachery to find out who he was working with.”

 

“We know of at least one. Edward Swinton is the man who tried to murder me. Dr Batra and her security team are interrogating him. I expect they will ship him here within the week.”

 

“Edward?” Ellie interrupted. “He was one of your bodyguards!”

 

“Convenient, eh? As it turns out, he and Nigel were roommates at the Academy. Both were ambitious men with antiquated ideas regarding the Slayer and her place in the world. Swinton’s views brought him to Quentin’s attention and he became a part of his security detail. He was also part of the delegation that accompanied Quentin and Nigel to Sunnydale and staying on in his role until he was reassigned to me about ten months ago - which, from a career point of view, was a step down for him. When I started to put the pieces together after Rupert phoned me in Haiti to let me know Buffy was alive, Edward devised the plan to kidnap me and dispose of me in the jungle,” Frederick explained ruefully.

 

“I will await Dr Batra’s report. Do you wish for her to replace you as commander, sir, or do you wish to appoint another?”

 

“No, no. She is _more_ than capable. I am really not sure why I was appointed to that position over her. She should have held that post all along. Draw up the papers and I will approve the promotion as soon as the dust settles here. For the moment, she will hold the title of Acting Commander of the Caribbean Theater of Operations,” he answered.

 

“Very good, sir,” Paul stated before bidding his four companions a good evening.

 

Standing up, Frederick took his wife’s hand and nodded at his son, who held Buffy to his side. “Well, It’s been a hard day, I say we get cleaned up and celebrate our victories before we head our separate ways tonight.”

 

“Separate ways?” Buffy asked.

 

“Yes, my dear. I figured you and Rupert and perhaps Ellie would like to head back home. I will stay at our townhouse here in the city to work on the transition and take up my new post.”

 

Ellie shook her head. “If you think I am letting you out of my sight after worrying myself sick these past several days, you are quite mistaken, Frederick, my love,” she said with finality.

 

Frederick smiled warmly at his wife. “I was hoping you would stay.”

 

“We’ll stay too, dad,” Giles stated. “But we’ll stay at a hotel until we can find someplace more permanent.”

 

“Why on earth would you two stay? Enjoy your retirement. Travel, see the world. For heaven’s sake, you deserve that.”

 

“Well, uh… we figured maybe you would give us a job,” Buffy said. “Perhaps we can modernize some of those outdated ideas of what a Slayer is and what her needs are. Maybe breathe some life into the stuffed shirts here.”

 

Frederick’s grin was infectious. “I am certain we can come up with something for the pair of you. Perhaps teaching roles at the Academy, get the Watchers-in-training whilst they are young and impressionable. And Buffy, we do have potentials here. They could benefit from your knowledge and expertise.”

 

“Sounds perfect!” Buffy replied with excitement, looking up at Giles.

 

“Perfect,” he agreed, taking her hand and leading her out of the office.

 

Frederick hung back, stretching his sore back and shoulders as he looked over at Ellie. “I see they’ve figured it out.”

 

“Yes,” Ellie answered, her eyes soft as she watched her son and Buffy leave the room.

 

“I take it you have given your approval?” he asked, taking her hand and placing it in the crook of his elbow.

 

She nodded. “He didn’t ask, but I gave it. I will say that I do feel better about it now that neither will be in harm’s way anymore and they can be happy without the weight of the world resting upon their shoulders.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

“And, Frederick?”

 

“Yes, love?”

 

“Just so we are in agreement,” she started her green eyes glinting with self satisfaction. “You retire a year from today.”

 

“Of course,” he answered, patting her hand and leading her out of the office. “You’ve been more than patient.”


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

 

 

 

A month and a half had passed since Nigel’s plot had been exposed and Quentin Travers resigned. After the immediate crisis of the Head Watcher’s succession had eased and the investigation into Nigel’s conspiracy had finished, Buffy and Giles returned to the family home outside of Bath to pack and prepare for their move to their new terraced house in London’s Camden neighborhood. Of course, Buffy didn’t really have anything to pack. Everything she had brought with her from Sunnydale had been packed up for her and sent to Frederick and Ellie’s home in Chelsea when it was decided that they all would be staying in London. 

 

With the purchase of their new home, Buffy and Giles had already determined that they would buy new furniture since most of the furniture in his apartments was custom made for the rooms long before he had ever moved into them. Mostly what Giles was packing up were his personal items and clothing.

 

He startled at the knock at his open door and placed the stack of books he was holding into a box. “Come in,” he said turning to find his father entering the room.

 

“I wish you would let me ring a moving company,” Frederick said looking around at the boxes.

 

“Honestly, Dad, it’s not that much and we’ve hired a van for the day.”

 

“Leaving tomorrow then?”

 

“Yes. We will sign at the solicitor’s at ten and then take possession of the keys from the estate agent directly afterwards. Have you decided which candidate you are taking on as the new estate manager?” Giles asked, changing subjects.

 

“Upon your suggestion, I will be offering the job to Ms Carmichael,” Frederick replied, shoving his hands into his pockets.

 

Giles smiled in satisfaction. “Very good. Mr Douglas felt she was the most qualified for the job as well. They will work well together.”

 

“That solidifies it then. I will ring her tomorrow.” Looking around, his father asked, “So, where is Buffy?”

 

“Out for a run. There isn’t much she can help out with at the moment as I sort through my things, so she decided to stretch her legs and explore the area.”

 

“Ah very good.” Frederick sat down in one of the chairs and crossed on leg over the other. “Have a seat, lad.”

 

“Is something wrong, Dad?” Giles asked, taking a seat in the companion chair and mirroring his father’s posture.

 

“No, no,” Frederick assured him. “I just thought I ought to ask you what your intentions towards Buffy are, after all, you’ve bought a house together.”

 

Giles shifted a little uneasily in his chair. “I think it’s fairly obvious that we are lovers.”

 

“Yes, of course… although that isn’t what I mean. Have you spoken about future plans?”

 

“We talked about inviting Dawn stay with us for the rest of her summer holidays as soon as we are settled…”

 

Frederick’s grimaced in consternation at his son’s misdirection. “That would be lovely. I do miss the girl, but damn it all, boy, I mean more long term. Pets? Children, perhaps? For Christ’s sake, _marriage?”_

 

Giles cleared his throat. “Not in such detail, no, but my commitment to her is not in question, Dad, she knows this.”

 

“And her’s to you?”

 

“I am secure in her feelings towards me. Buffy would never have entered into this relationship lightly, I assure you.”

 

“Yes, that is obvious, I agree. Then why not discuss marriage? It is very clear that you are both very much in love with the other.”

 

Giles felt the stirrings of rebellion in him. “A thirty year mortgage for which we both are responsible isn’t commitment enough?” 

 

“Rupert, I am being serious here!”

 

“So am I, Dad!” he retorted. Father and son glared at each other before Giles let out a cleansing breath. “Why not discuss marriage? Because it’s not been two months since Buffy showed up on our doorstep, and while our relationship has progressed rather quickly, we’d perhaps like to this time to enjoy ourselves before planning a wedding and facing all the responsibilities that come with that.” Frederick stared at his son with a look of incredulity and Giles felt the need to continue, “Th-that and there hasn’t really been the opportunity, since we have both been rather involved in our new roles in the Council, finding a place to live, and planning the move. We’re together and that is enough for the moment, I suppose,” Giles answered, trying not to squirm under his father’s scrutiny. “May I ask, what’s brought all this about?”

 

“Simply wondering what’s taking so long,” Frederick replied jovially as he winked at his son. “I love you both, Rupert, and Buffy has become a surrogate daughter to me. I want to see you both happy and it would be nice to formally welcome her into the family.” His smile held a natural warmth and Giles felt the defensiveness melt from his shoulders.

 

“Thank you,” Giles stated softly. “And thank you for looking after her when I couldn’t.”

 

“She was family even before she stole her way into our hearts, son.”

 

“I know, but thank you all the same,” he replied.

 

Frederick nodded and stood up. “I’ll just leave this here then,” he stated as he placed a small, blue box on the coffee table before taking his leave. On his way out the door, he stopped and turned back to address his son once more. “Oh, and it’s not for either of us to say, but your mother and I are in favor of grandchildren. We rather enjoy spoiling our great-nieces and nephews, and, of course, Dawn whilst we were in Sunnydale, but we thought it might be jolly fun to spoil a grandchild or two of our own. ”

 

Giles watched his father go in disbelief before leaning over and picking up the box.

 

—————

 

“So, do we have any hard and fast plans besides dinner with your parents tonight?” Buffy asked as she emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel and drying her hair.

 

“No, but I thought perhaps we might take a walk.”

 

“I just came in from a run and now I am all clean,” she pouted, making her way over towards him to give him a kiss.

 

He sighed at the softness of it, wanting to taste more, but he needed to get out of his apartments. He’d spent the better part of the morning finishing up the majority of his packing. All that was left to do now was to pack his clothes and his toiletries.

 

“I’m not suggesting a vigorous walk,” he stated, holding her to him. “But I do need to stretch my legs and take in a change of scenery.”

 

“Do you have something in mind?”

 

“How about a walk up to the hawthorn tree?”

 

Buffy smiled at him. The hawthorn tree and the surrounding area was one of her favorite spots on the planet and not just for aesthetic reasons. There was a peaceful energy about the place that set her at ease. “Yeah, that sounds good. Give me a few minutes to get dressed.”

 

“Don’t be long,” he responded placing a playful kiss on her nose.

 

It had only taken her about fifteen minutes to get ready and in that time Giles had gone to the kitchen and packed a bottle of wine, a blanket, some fruit, a brick of cheese, and a box of crackers into his knapsack. As they wandered through the woods towards the hawthorn tree, he found himself contemplating her wardrobe choice with amusement. He’d often wondered what went through her head with regards to her sartorial choices. When she was younger and chose to wear a miniskirt and heels to patrol in, he thought she was deliberately trying to vex him. He was a pragmatic sort and she would try his patience by wearing the most ridiculous outfits in which to slay vampires and demons. Of course, as she got older, her patrol clothes were more suited to function and comfort. 

 

But she still had moments where he questioned the practicality of her choice in clothing and he was currently experiencing one of those moments. They headed to what they both considered their own personal sanctuary, which required them to walk through the forest, albeit on a path, but it was a natural path nonetheless, cross a stream, and ford through a field, and there she was wearing a soft cotton blue dress that came down mid thigh and a pair of thong sandals as though she were attending a classical concert on the village green. She looked lovely though, and he counted himself extremely lucky to have been the one who captured her heart.

 

“You’re questioning my footwear choice, aren’t you?” Buffy guessed, looking up at him as they came to the stream.

 

“Not much grip on them to prevent you from slipping on the rocks,” he commented with a shrug, knowing that even if he had said something earlier, she wouldn’t have changed her mind.

 

She let go of his hand and pulled her sandals off before dancing across the rocks to the opposite bank, her smile smug and knowing as it spread wide across her lips. It reminded him of another time in the library when she would prove her point during a training session and he laughed good-naturedly as he followed her across the stream.

 

“Clever girl,” Giles chuckled when he met up her on the opposite bank. He surprised her by quickly picking her up and she shrieked with laughter and buried her forehead into his neck as he carried carried her the rest of the way to their spot beneath the hawthorn tree. After gently setting her down, he tenderly ran the knuckles of his left hand over her cheek before thoroughly kissing her.

 

“I do love you so,” he murmured when he ended the kiss.

 

Buffy smiled up at him. “I might love you a little bit too.”

 

“Just a little bit?” he asked releasing her and taking the blanket out of his knapsack.

 

She laughed. “Just a smidge,” she replied, helping him spread the blanket over the ground.

 

“As much as that?” he sighed wearily as he played along. “It’s a start, I suppose.”

 

Looking around their haven, Buffy took a deep breath before making herself comfortable on the blanket. She felt the earth’s goodness and warmth radiate from beneath the lush grass that her Slayer soul craved, but she knew it would feel even better if she were lying in Giles’ arms.

 

“Sit,” she invited, patting the area next to her.

 

Giles toed off his shoes and socks and did as she asked, resting his back against the trunk of the ancient tree. She snuggled into his side and rested her head on his chest as he wrapped his left arm around her.

 

“Comfortable?” he asked.

 

“Mmm, so much better,” Buffy answered as she wrapped her arm around his waist. “I am going to revise my previous statement and say that I might love you more than a smidge.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah, I love you beyond anything anyone can measure.”

 

Giles squeezed her to him and dropped a kiss on top of her head.

 

“Think we’ll find a spot of our own in London?” she asked, changing subjects.

 

“Not like this, no.”

 

She sighed in resignation. “Didn’t think so.”

 

“We’re only a couple hours away,” he stated softly. “But, as you know, London has beautiful green parks and I am sure we will find a nice place to call our own in the city.”

 

“It won’t be as private,” she noted as she lightly caressed his fingers with hers. “Nor as peaceful.”

 

“No,” Giles agreed. They were quiet a few moments before he moved his head to see if he could tell what she was thinking. There was a look of serenity on her face that he’d never witnessed before. Lacing their fingers together, he raised their joined hands and placed soft kisses along her knuckles. “You look very content.”

 

Buffy smiled and snuggled in closer. “Just taking in the the atmosphere with my favorite guy.”

 

“He’s content to be here with you. Would you like some wine?”

 

“That would be lovely.”

 

He moved out from under her and pulled out the bottle, along with the corkscrew and two glasses from his knapsack and set them on the blanket. When he was finished rooting through his bag, Buffy reached for the raspberries and helped herself to a few while Giles opened the wine.

 

Handing her her glass, he toasted, “To us.”

 

“To us,” she echoed with a smile and tapped her glass against his. “It’s nice to get out together and relax. It feels like it’s been nonstop.”

 

“It has been with our new roles at the Council, the investigation and the tribunal, and finding a place to live.” 

 

“Yeah, all that in a little over a month,” she marveled, shaking her head. “It’s hard to believe we’re here together.”

 

“How do you mean?”

 

“Well, finding you. Finding out you love me and that you want to be with me. Taking on a new role in the Council and knowing we never have to patrol again, that we never have to place ourselves in harm’s way again. I’m still a bit spun, ya know?”

 

Giles leaned back against the tree and she snuggled back into his side. “I know the feeling,” he agreed.

 

“Oh, and speaking of spun, I made a few calls this morning. Willow and Tara have been accepted to Harvard for grad school. With the lack of activity on the Hellmouth, they both agreed that it is time to move on.”

 

“Wow, that is excellent! I hope you passed along my congratulations as well.”

 

“Of course, but I told them you would want to call them personally.”

 

“Very good.”

 

“And Xander and Anya’s little bun is doing well in the oven. Next month they’ll find out whether they are expecting a boy or a girl. The names they’ve picked out are atrocious, but on the plus side, they both hate the other’s suggestions, so the baby may luck out and have a normal name.”

 

“Something normal like Buffy?” Giles teased.

 

“Can it, _Rupert!”_ Buffy shot back. He chuckled before leaning in to kiss her. “Apology accepted,” she murmured against his lips. “And Dawn says she can’t wait to come and visit. She’ll be here mid July and we better be prepared to take her _everywhere!”_

 

“She’d better have a list and narrow it down, the island is larger than it looks.”

 

“I am sure she will now that she knows it won’t be her only visit. I decided to break the news to everyone that we aren’t coming back to Sunnydale.”

 

“I don’t know why you didn’t when we decided to work with Dad and the Council.”

 

Buffy shrugged and took a sip of her wine. “Call it a trial period.”

 

“Am I on a trial period too?” he asked with amusement, tenderly trailing his index finger down her cheek.

 

“Hell no! You are stuck with me, mister!” she stated with finality.

 

“I am glad.”

 

“But then, you knew that.”

 

“I did,” he agreed, setting down his glass in his shoe to keep it from tipping over. “But we never have spoken about the future, Buffy, not really.”

 

“We have the house and our new jobs,” she countered. “We spoke about those.”

 

“True. But Willow and Tara have grad school and then presumably they will continue their studies and earn their PhDs. Xander and Anya have the shop in San Diego and a child on the way. What do you want? You could go back to school, if you like. Nothing says the job at the Council needs to be full time.”

 

Her face had turned serious at his question. “What do you want?”

 

“I want you to be happy, love, and if I can somehow provide you with and be part of your happiness, then I will be a richer man for it.”

 

“I am happy,” she replied as she moved to kneel beside him, placing her glass within his other shoe. Searching his eyes she insisted, “ _You_ make me happy, Giles.”

 

Caressing her cheek, he responded with a small smile, “You make me happy as well, love, ecstatically so.”

 

“See, this is forever. You and me,” Buffy stated with a happy grin.

 

Giles’ eyes gleamed with mirth. “Tell me what this forever entails, so I know what I am getting myself into.”

 

“There’s no backing out now, mister!” she declared, playfully hitting his shoulder. “You promised. No Slayer scorning.”

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it. It’s just in the past, my Slayer has included me in her plans, at least most of them. Right now I am flying a little blind.”

 

“She’s including you now, but if she need to get specific…” Buffy teased before sobering up when she placed her hand above the scars on his chest. Her gaze fell upon her hand and she quieted for a moment. At times she still felt those harsh moments when she thought she would lose him. “God Giles, you were nearly killed and you fought such an uphill battle to walk again. And then you spent a whole year thinking I was dead. I can’t imagine-“

 

“It’s over now, Buffy,” he assured her in that quiet assuring tone of his.

 

“I know, but that’s the thing. We’ve both been through hell these past two years. I missed you so much! But the worst of it all was imagining a world without you. First as I waited for the doctors to tell me if you were going to make it, then letting you go to recuperate and waiting for you to walk through my front door in Sunnydale, and finally realizing it was never going to happen.”

 

“I am sorry,” he said with regret.

 

“I love you, Giles, with all that I am, and there is no doubt in my mind that you love me too. That’s why I said that this is forever,” she explained, moving her hand to his heart. A shy smile pulled at the edges of her lips before she continued, “And if forever comes with a wedding and perhaps a couple of baby Gileses at some point in the near future, that would be more than fine with me.”

 

A warm breeze wafted through the branches and Giles gently pushed away a errant lock from her cheek, his expression a mixture of amusement, adoration, and awe. “I like this version of forever,” he began, matching her serious tone as he drew her across his lap. “But I know how I was a child and I think I might prefer a baby Buffy or two.”

 

She leaned down to kiss him. “I am fairly certain I was a handful and a half. Maybe we’ll luck out and have a child that only has our best qualities. You know, brainy and polite in that British way with my coordination and natural curiosity, oh, and perfect eyesight even though little kids in glasses are so cute.”

 

Giles laughed. “With our luck, our child will be rebellious, sarcastic, will abuse the English language with impunity, and have no concept of proper footwear for the occasion at hand,” he countered with amused horror.

 

“I doubt it would be as bad as that,” Buffy laughed along with him before her eyes softened and she nuzzled her head into his neck. “But he will be perfect no matter what.”

 

“He? Could be a she.”

 

 “Could be,” she responded as she lifted her head to look at him, tilting it off to one side. “How about one of each?”

 

“I am fairly certain that isn’t up to us, but I am game to try,” Giles answered as he ran his hands down her hips and thighs, before lifting the hem of her dress and running teasing fingers along her exposed skin.

 

She could feel his burgeoning arousal beneath her. “Right here and now?” she asked, her breath leaving her as he lifted himself up and kissed the tender spot between her neck and her collarbone.

 

“Wouldn’t be the worst idea we’ve had,” he responded with a chuckle before leaning back against the tree.

 

Buffy laughed with him. “No,” she agreed.

 

Reaching for the backpack, Giles opened the front pocket and pulled out the small blue box his father had given him earlier. He opened it and presented a beautiful Victorian engagement ring to her, featuring a pillow shaped sapphire surrounded by a halo of diamonds, and the gold band decorated with engraving and black enameling.

 

Looking up at him in shock, Buffy whispered, “It’s gorgeous.”

 

Giles took the ring from the box and reverently slid it into place upon her left ring finger. Taking her hand, he kissed the ring and the finger beneath it before looking back up at her, his green eyes filled with emotion. “I thought marriage might be a part of our forever too.”

 

Buffy considered the ring on her finger as she splayed her hand out to the side and inspected it. “It looks old,” she said.

 

“It was my grandmother’s, but if you prefer something else, we can find you something new when we are back in London,” he suggested quickly, unsure of her comment.

 

“No!” she replied quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that. I love it, I really do! I just meant that it’s not a modern style.”

 

The smile returned to Giles’ lips. “It’s late Victorian,” he confirmed.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Sure it’s late Victorian?” he asked with some confusion.

 

“Are you sure you want me to have it?” Buffy clarified. “I mean, it’s an antique and a family heirloom and all.”

 

“I do,” he reassured her as he lovingly brushed his lips against hers. “Buffy, you _are_ my family. I want you to have it. And before you go off on whether or not my parents would approve of me giving you the ring, it was my father who dug it out of the safe for me to give to you.”

 

She laughed and kissed him back, tantalizing him with small teasing kisses. “So I guess we have your parent’s approval.”

 

“Oh yes. The conversation was a bit awkward towards the end there, with Dad telling me he and Mum want to spoil our future children, but since we’ve had that chat now, I am sure I’ll be able to sit through the talk about where babies come from the night before our wedding.”

 

“You mean you don’t know?” she asked as she playfully ground against him.

 

“It might have slipped my mind, why don’t you show me?” he suggested as he slipped his arms around her and cupped the back of her head with his hand, guiding her lips to his.

 

They made love slowly beneath the ancient hawthorn tree, hands roaming each other’s bodies to move unnecessary clothing out of the way and tongues tussling as passionate kisses drew deeper until love yielded to lust and oxygen became an issue. Drunk on pheromones and frenzied entangled masculine and feminine energies, two became one. As they reached their completion, Buffy reached out and braced her arm against the trunk of the tree just above Giles’ shoulder while Giles grabbed at an exposed root.

 

After the world slowly came back to them, they made themselves presentable and she curled up against him and he happily held her in his arms. She lightly trailed fingers lightly over his torso between his unbuttoned shirt, the silence between them comfortable and comforting.

 

Finally breaking the silence, she said, “Damn, that was intense,”

 

Giles hugged her to him in response. “It was rather, wasn’t it?” he replied.

 

“Kinda more than usual.”

 

“Well, we did just agree to get married. It might’ve heightened our emotions a bit,” Giles suggested, kissing the top of her head.

 

“No… different. Not… like that, although… yeah. I mean, lots of happy emotions, but…”

 

“How so, then?”

 

Buffy struggled to find the words, but then she realized what it was that threw her off. “Tingly…. like… magicks tingly.” She felt his body tense and turned in his arms to look up at him. 

 

He was deep in thought, his eyes wide and his brow furrowed with confusion as he searched his brain for something to explain the lingering magicks that he, too, had now picked up on. 

 

“Uh… Giles, your eyes… they are… they’re that same emerald green color they turned when you read me that first day. What did you _do?”_

 

He skewed his eyes shut for a moment as if to deny the change. “I didn’t _do_ anything.”

 

“Well _something_ happened, because tingly feelings and spooky emerald eyes aren’t an everyday occurrence.” She could feel a twinge of panic rising, and she tried to remind herself that there had been nothing malevolent in that magickal tingle she felt. In fact, she felt rather relaxed and at ease… and totally blissed out, if she were honest.

 

 Looking up at the tree he muttered to himself, “At least not intentionally.”

 

“Giles, explain… please?” she asked, trying not to panic.

 

Running his left hand through his already unkempt hair, he cleared his throat, “I uh… I think the tree married us.”

 

_“What?”_

 

“Um… the tree represents the male and the female, yes?”

 

“Uh huh, and duality and balance. We talked about that.”

 

“Well… erm… and we are linked together mystically as Watcher and Slayer…”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And uh, when I… came, I grabbed the root of the tree, and I believe you touched the tree as well… it must’ve opened a conduit to the ancient power inherent in the area… and well w-we uh… just… we just consummated that union…”

 

Buffy started to laugh. “So that’s it, huh?”

 

“It’s rather a very serious _it.”_ Giles countered, wishing he had his glasses to wipe, but Buffy had set them down somewhere after she had removed them and he wasn’t exactly sure where at the moment.

 

“We’ll still do the traditional ceremony for family and friends,” she said lightheartedly with a shrug. “They’d feel cheated if we didn’t.”

 

Concern marked his brow and he frowned, “Buffy, this… I don’t believe this can be undone.”

 

“So what? Were you planning our eventual divorce too?” she asked, a little hurt.

 

“No, no! Not at all!” he reassured her, taking her hands in hers. “Never! It’s just-“

 

“Chill, Giles,” she said softly, placing her index finger over his mouth. “I get it. This tree, or this place… the ancient power whatever… it _knows_ us. It understands who we are to one another. If we’re suddenly mystically or magickally married, then it knows what is in our hearts. Forever. Right?”

 

The crinkles around his brilliantly illuminated emerald green eyes reflected his happiness and the tension seemed to melt away. “Forever.”

 

Content, Buffy settled back into Giles arms and they relaxed beneath the hawthorn once more. Just a month and a half ago, she’d been lost and distraught because an arrogant little man had gained enough power to exact his revenge to keep her and Giles apart. But she had found Giles and, with the help of his parents, they had thwarted Nigel’s plot for retribution and his plans to take over the Council. Now she was embarking on a new life away from Sunnydale and the Hellmouth; away from demons and vampires. One that included the promise of a normal life, Giles’ loving parents, a mystical marriage to her best friend that was blessed by an ancient power, and a future that would include little Gileses… or Buffys.

 

Fate, it turned out, had a grander scheme in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! It was so much fun to write this story (and finally finish it) and share it with you. -otter


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